


Angels and Demons

by Clarrisani



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Demon Dean Winchester, M/M, Miscarriage, Mpreg, Omega Dean Winchester, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-19 11:34:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 25
Words: 51,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29874024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clarrisani/pseuds/Clarrisani
Summary: Demon Dean has captured a weakened Castiel and is intent on mating with him despite Crowley's advice. Sam is dead set on finding Dean and Castiel and asks the angels for help.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 35
Kudos: 66





	1. Chapter 1

Dean smiled as he leaned back against the throne. Crowley had left him to his own devices, finally seeming to accept that Dean was an equal. Crowley had ordered the other demons to follow Dean’s commands so long as they didn’t run counter to his own. Dean wasn’t interested in running Hell so he had decided to leave Crowley in charge. A few demons had tried to rise up against the new orders but Dean had happily dispatched them with the First Blade, Crowley standing back with a smirk on his face.

He licked his lips, glancing at his watch. He’d received word that a couple of the demons had found a present for him. They had promised to bring it within the next hour, but that time had come and gone. Dean could feel his anger bubbling up within him. He wondered if maybe he should still kill them when they arrived, even if he liked their present.

There was the sound of shuffling and yelling at the door, Dean straightening in his seat. The throne room doors were thrown open, a small group of lower demons entering. What caught Dean’s eye, however, was the present they had between them. He sucked in a deep breath, scenting the air and catching the familiar scent. Alpha.

The demons dropped the form to the ground, one of them looking up at Dean. “We heard you were looking for this.”

They ripped the bag off of the other’s head, Castiel raising his eyes to look up. His blue eyes widened as he spotted Dean. He tried to say something but was muffled by the tape over his lips, and he tugged at the chains that bound him but to no avail. Dean grinned, leaning forward and gazing down at him.

“Hey Cas,” Dean said. “Long time.”

He glanced up at the demons. “Nice work. I’ll let Crowley know.”

One of the demons pulled out Castiel’s angel blade, holding it to Castiel’s throat. “Should we kill him?”

“No,” Dean said, pushing himself out of the chair and stepping down the stairs. He held a hand out for the blade, the demon handing it over. “Leave me with him.”

“Are you sure?” one of the demons said. “He’s dangerous.”

“So am I,” Dean said, stalking closer to him. “Do you want to find out how much?”

The demon shook his head, the group retreating out of the throne room and closing the doors behind them. Dean turned to Castiel, looking down at the crumpled form of the angel. As a demon he could see Castiel’s grace burning within him. He frowned at how dim it seemed to be, remembering the stories of how Castiel’s grace had been taken. He already had demons out hunting for it and knew it would only be a matter of time before they found it.

“So I hear you’re running on borrowed angel juice,” Dean said, stalking around to Castiel’s front. He knelt down beside him, catching Castiel by the hair and pulling him up. “How’s that working out for you?”

Castiel didn’t answer, simply content with glaring at him.

“Oh, sorry,” Dean said. He hooked the angel blade into his belt and reached forward, ripping the tape from Castiel’s face. “There you go.”

“Dean,” Castiel said, his voice hoarse.

“Yeap, it’s me,” Dean said. “Bet you’re surprised to see me.”

“You’re a demon,” Castiel said.

“Clearly.” Dean blinked, his eyes going black as he grinned. “And you’re an angel.”

He saw Castiel’s nose twitch, the alpha sucking in a deep breath. His eyes widened. “You’re an omega?’

“Have been my whole life,” Dean said. “Surprise.”

“You take suppressants,” Castiel guessed.

“Sure do,” Dean said. “Or at least I did. Don’t see any point now being dead and all that. Anyone tries to make a jump at me I just…” he patted the First Blade that was tucked into his belt.

Castiel stared at it, then at Dean’s arm. “The Mark did this to you.”

“Good guess,” Dean said. “That’s what Crowley figures.”

Castiel stared at him, Dean feeling his glare. He sighed, stroking Castiel’s jawline and feeling the stubble beneath his fingers. Dean glanced up toward the door and wondered if the other demons were trying to listen in.

“Sam and I have been looking for you,” Castiel said, breaking the silence.

“I know,” Dean said, looking back down at him. “How is Sammy?”

“Worried,” Castiel said. “Dean, we can help you.”

“With what?” Dean asked, gazing at him. “I don’t need any help.”

Castiel frowned. “Dean…”

“Cas, I can kill things with the snap of my fingers,” Dean said. “I can sense anything that comes after me before he can get me. And the killing…” he groaned. “I’ve never felt more alive. Not even in purgatory.”

“This isn’t you,” Castiel said.

“It’s all me,” Dean said. “Just got the inhibitors off. Feels great.”

Castiel glanced around them, taking in the room. “Where’s Crowley?”

“Busy,” Dean said. “He is King of Hell.”

“So you haven’t killed him?”

“Net yet.” Dean shrugged. “I’ve got no desire to take over as King. Too much politics for me.”

“So Crowley’s useful to you.”

“Pretty much.” Dean smiled, caressing Castiel’s face. “But now I’ve got you the fun can start.”

Castiel levelled his glare on him. “What do you intend to do with me?”

“I’ve got a few things in mind,” Dean said. He smirked. “You’ll find out.”

“Sam will be looking for me.”

“I know. The demons are leading him on a wild goose chase already. He can’t find you here.”

“Because we’re in Hell.”

“Exactomundo.” Dean grinned. “You’re not going anywhere. You haven’t got the grace to escape anyway.”

Castiel remained silent.

“Anyway,” Dean said, trailing his fingertips over Castiel’s lips. “Let’s get you settled in.”

He looked up toward the door and whistled loudly, the doors to the throne room opening. Two large demons stepped in.

“Sir?” One asked.

“Take our new guest to his room,” Dean said. “Strip him and strap him into the chair.”

“Yes sir,” the demon said.

They came forward and gripped Castiel under the arms, hurling him to his feet. Dean watched as they dragged him out of the room. Dean moved back to the throne, dropping back into it and hooking one leg over the armrest. He pulled out his phone and sent Crowley a message to let him know they had Castiel. It didn’t take long until the phone rang, Dean taking the call.

“This is a bad idea,” Crowley said as soon as Dean answered.

“Not really,” Dean said. “It’s one less angel after my head.”

“Yes, but it will incentivise the other angels to try and rescue him,” Crowley said. “You haven’t thought this through.”

“I’ve thought of everything,” Dean assured him. “You worry too much.”

“I don’t like having Feathers in my dungeon,” Crowley said. “The sooner you kill him the better.”

“I’m not going to kill him,” Dean said. “Not yet. I want to play with him first.”

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to play with your food,” Crowley commented.

“Died before she got to that stage, remember?” Dean shrugged it off. “I know what I’m doing, Crowley.”

“Famous last words,” Crowley said. “Feathers is going to be your complete responsibility. Anything happens and it’s your head.”

“Fine by me,” Dean said. “When you getting back anyway?”

“Miss me, do you?” Crowley said. “I’ll be back when business is done. In the meantime you should be worrying about Moose. Word is he’s on the verge of discovering you’re a demon.”

“Leave Sammy to me,” Dean said. “He won’t be a problem.”

“Don’t underestimate your brother.”

Crowley hung up the phone, Dean giving it a look of displeasure before hanging up. He sighed, reclining back and resting his head against the back of the throne. If there was one thing about Hell it was that it was boring. Dean knew that he could probably go and torture some souls but that really wasn’t his thing. He enjoyed the killing more than anything. The soft sound of his blade slicing into flesh; the metallic smell of the blood. He enjoyed seeing the light fade from the eyes of his victims as he stared them down.

That’s it, he needed to kill again. Dean pushed himself up, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a list Crowley had given him. A few names were already crossed off. They were demons that had tried to cross Crowley in recent years. When Dean has said he had a desire to kill Crowley had given the list to him and told him to have at it. Dean looked at the next name and smiled. Time to get to work.

\-----O-----

Castiel gazed around the room he was in looking for some means of escape. There were four windowless walls surrounding him. A door was at the end of one wall and looked to be made of wrought iron. Along one of the walls there were chains. More chains hung from the roof. There was a table at one end of the room with manacles attached. And then there was the chair Castiel strapped into.

He tested the bonds again, flaring his stolen grace to give him a little more strength. It wasn’t enough though, the bonds remaining stuck fast. He felt incredibly exposed, the demons having stripped him of his clothing before they had tied him down. In the process they had taken the hidden weapons Castiel had had, as well as his cell phone. He was at their complete mercy.

Castiel sighed and closed his eyes, his mind rushing with thoughts. His main thought was to worry about Sam. When they’d last been in contact it had been when Sam had told Castiel about a lead he had on Dean. Castiel had been closest to the location so had promised to go look into it, Sam telling him if he didn’t hear back he’d come looking for him. Now that Castiel knew Dean was a demon he was scared about what could happen to Sam. The last thing he wanted was him to get hurt.

Then there was Dean. Castiel swallowed, the memory of those black eyes flashing up. How could this have happened? The Dean he knew would never have allowed himself to live. Castiel knew the Mark was a corrupting influence, but he had never suspected that it would turn Dean into a demon. Then again he hadn’t thought Metatron would kill Dean either. He should have suspected it though. Metatron knew Dean was Castiel’s primary weakness.

Castiel’s nose twitched at the memory of Dean’s scent. He kicked himself as he felt a thread of arousal shoot through him. Dean had smelt like everything Castiel loved. The fresh smell of the earth after the rain. A hint of a flower filled garden. The soft leather of the Impala’s seats. The slightest skerrick of sugar and honey. Castiel had always had fleeting hints of Dean’s smell over the years, but without his suppressants it had been almost overpowering.

He shook the thought off. He worried about the fact Dean wasn’t on his suppressants anymore. It was like a beacon shouting ‘here I am’ to every alpha in the immediate area. He was scared Dean would get jumped. He was more scared about what could happen to the alphas that even tried to jump Dean. He had been able to sense the bloodlust coming from the demon. He knew it was probably controlled by the Mark and the First Blade, and that made him even more worried.

On the plus side he and Sam knew how to ‘cure’ a demon. Castiel knew he would need to find some way to get Dean out of Hell and back to the bunker. He gazed around the walls looking for something that could help him and coming up with a blank. For now he was completely at the mercy of the demons but would need to keep his wits about him.

He wondered what Dean had planned for him. He swallowed hard, knowing that Dean was a master at torture. Did he intend to torture him? That would explain why Castiel needed to be naked. The room itself looked like it would be the perfect place for torture to take place. It even had the faint smell of old blood to it, but then most of Hell had that smell. It lay just beneath the smell of sulphur and pain.

He settled into the chair, pulling again at his bonds. They were warded, but he knew if he had his grace they wouldn’t be able to hold him. Unfortunately he hadn’t had his grace for a while now. He was living on borrowed grace, at least that was how he liked to think of it. The grace he had was fading though. It would only be a matter of time before he was fully human again, or worse – he could die this time.

He glanced up at the sound of distant footsteps, hearing them pass by his cell. No doubt some sort of guard. He swallowed, wondering how long Dean intended to leave him where he was. The room was almost silent and Castiel knew if left to his own thoughts he might go insane. He gazed around the room again, seeing no means of escape.

He never should have been in this position. He kicked himself for letting his guard down. He had gone into the building hoping to find Dean. Instead he had been jumped by the demons. He had managed to kill at least three of them before they had overpowered him. They had pinned him down and fastened him in chains, putting the bag over his head before they had dragged him to Hell. He never should have gone in alone.

Letting out a long breath he resigned himself to his situation. There was nothing he could do about it now. All he could do is keep looking for a way out and take it should the opportunity present itself. All he could do for the moment is wait.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean walked back into hell with a grin on his face, his blood lust having been sated. He made his way to the washroom and set about cleaning the blood from his body. He changed his clothes, then cleaned the First Blade. It had been a relatively easy mission. The demon had been expecting him and had tried to get the jump on him, but Dean had been able to sense the trap and had taken out the guard before they knew he was there.

He let out a long breath and gazed at his reflection in the mirror. He blinked, his eyes flashing to black. He gave himself a wink and a grin. He couldn’t get over how much he was enjoying being a Knight of Hell. The sheer power that coursed through him was amazing. He could do all the things he had seen other demons do in the past. He could throw people back against walls with the flick of a wrist. He could force other demons out of their host’s bodies. All the things Sam had been able to do when juiced up on demon blood Dean could now do. He was beginning to understand why Sam had done it.

Finally clean he made his way to the throne room, stepping inside and casting his gaze around. A demon was waiting inside and straightened when he walked in.

“Crowley back yet?” Dean asked.

“No sir,” the demon answered, shaking his head. “He sent word and said he’d be back in the morning.”

“Fine.” Dean stretched, smirking as he remembered who he had locked up in the dungeon. “If you need me I’ll be in the dungeon.”

“Very good, sir.”

He hated this ‘sir’ business, but he liked the look of terror that the demons would give him when he entered. He’d killed enough of them by now that they had come to revere him. Dean knew that many of the demons viewed him simply as Crowley’s attack dog though. He didn’t bother to correct them. Dean had zero interest in overthrowing Crowley, and the other demon was useful anyway.

Dean made his way down to the dungeon, passing several other demons on the way who gave him a wide berth and kept their eyes down. He really was enjoying their fear. He could almost taste it. He licked his lips. He hadn’t felt this since he had been in purgatory, and even then he had had a disadvantage. Now the playing field was even. Dean even had an advantage.

He reached the door in the dungeon and wondered if the guards had followed his orders exactly. There was only one way to find out, and Dean unlocked the door and pushed it open. He stepped into the room, spotting the chair in the middle of the space. Castiel’s head came up as Dean entered, Dean closing and locking the door behind him.

Sure enough Castiel was naked. Dean smirked, taking in the other’s exposed body. His eyes travelled over the tattoos on Castiel’s abdomen. He hadn’t known that Castiel had tattoos. They looked like Enochian so Dean guessed they were some kind of warding. There was no demon warding however, and Dean wondered if it would be possible for a demon to enter Castiel. He knew he couldn’t – his own demon warding locked him inside his own body.

“Hey Cas,” Dean said, stepping toward the angel.

“Hello Dean,” Castiel said, his eyes locked on Dean. Dean could feel him assessing him.

“Hope you like your room,” Dean said, stopping in front of him.

Castiel’s nose twitched. “You’ve killed recently.”

“You caught me.” Dean shrugged it off. “Just some demons giving Crowley a hard time.”

“So you haven’t killed Crowley,” Castiel said.

“I have no intention of killing Crowley,” Dean said. “I don’t want to be King.”

Castiel didn’t answer, his blue gaze fixated on Dean’s face. Dean wondered if he could see his inner demon, his true form. For Dean he could see the grace pulsing through Castiel. There was a faint glow to his eyes that Dean was sure he wouldn’t have been able to see if he were human. The grace was tinged with black though, as if it were rotting. Stolen grace, Dean reminded himself. It was probably poison to Castiel.

“What do you want, Dean?” Castiel finally said, breaking the silence.

“Hm. Good question.” Dean stepped closer, dropping into Castiel’s lap and straddling him. He wrapped his arms around Castiel’s shoulders, narrowing his eyes as Castiel leaned back away from him as far as he could. “You know what, Cas, your alpha smell is stronger now I’m off my suppressants. I can really smell it. It’s like sunshine on a clear day with just a hint of a sea breeze.” He leaned forward, breathing in deep. “You smell good.”

Castiel swallowed hard.

“Can you smell me?” He asked, wrapping his hand around Castiel’s head and pulling him forward, pressing Castiel’s nose into his scent gland. “I bet you can smell it.”

“Dean…” Castiel growled.

“You can smell the fact we’re meant to be mates” Dean said. “What do they call it? Truemates?”

He heard Castiel give a shuddering breath.

“Yeah, you can smell it,” Dean said. “You didn’t know I was an omega so you never really paid attention, did you. But I’ve smelt you for a while now. I’ve known for a while. Just never thought you’d be interested, being an angel.”

“Angels rarely mate,” Castiel said.

“Figured as much,” Dean said. “Because you live so long. But here’s the thing, Cas – I’m already dead. I can live as long as you now.”

Castiel seemed to catch on, pulling his head back from Dean’s grasp. “No, Dean.”

“Oh come on.” Dean pointed to the spot where his shoulder met his neck, right where his scent gland was. “Just a little mark right here.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Castiel said.

Dean pouted, caressing Castiel’s face. “You know I always found you attractive. Since the day we met. Doubly so when I realised you were an alpha. I just considered you off limits.”

Castiel stared at the space over his shoulder.

“But who cares about limits,” Dean said. “How about we have some fun.”

He slid off Castiel’s lap and toed off his shoes, reaching for his belt. Castiel’s eyes flicked to him and watched what he was doing, widening in alarm. Dean flashed him a grin as he dropped his pants and removed his underwear, stepping out of them.

“What are you doing?” Castiel asked.

“Something I’ve been thinking about for a while,” Dean admitted, sliding back into Castiel’s lap. He reached down and caught hold of Castiel’s cock, finding it already slightly hard. No doubt from when he had scented Dean, his alpha wakening. Dean licked his lips, meeting Castiel’s eye. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Castiel, Castiel jerking his head back but Dean followed him.

He continued to stroke Castiel, feeling the angel respond to his ministrations. Castiel’s breathing was beginning to come in short pants but Dean knew they were more from panic than from arousal. Dean peppered kisses over his neck and jaw, focussing in particular on Castiel’s scent gland and breathing in his alpha. He grazed his teeth over the spot and heard Castiel whimper.

“Breathe it in, Cas,” Dean said, pulling Castiel’s head into his neck. “Breathe in my omega. Gets you hard, doesn’t it.”

“Dean, stop,” Castiel said.

Dean shook his head and grinned, feeling himself getting slick. It was a sensation he wasn’t used to as his suppressants also had the added effect of preventing his body’s natural reaction to arousal. He kept stroking Castiel until he was fully erect, Castiel’s body betraying him. When he was satisfied Dean wrapped his hand around Castiel’s cock and shifted, lining himself up.

“Don’t!” Castiel said.

Dean gave him a grin as he let his body sink down onto Castiel’s cock. He moaned as he was filled, closing his eyes and relishing the feel. He let his body take as much of Castiel as their seating arrangement would allow.

“Dean,” Castiel repeated.

“Cas,” Dean said, wrapping his arms around Castiel’s neck. “You feel so good.”

“You have to stop,” Castiel groaned.

Dean shook his head, beginning to roll his hips as he moved in Castiel’s lap. The slick made the slide easy. Dean licked his lips again, running his fingers through Castiel’s hair. This wasn’t the way he had imagined their first time going but he wasn’t complaining. He began to ride Castiel in earnest, shifting until Castiel began brushing against the sweet spot inside him.

“No,” Castiel breathed. “Stop, Dean.”

“Mm-mm,” Dean said. He leaned forward and buried his face into Castiel’s neck, breathing in his scent and feeling his body scream ‘mate’.

It didn’t take long before Dean began to feel Castiel’s knot starting to swell, Castiel’s body betraying him further. Dean grinned, baring himself down onto Castiel, taking him in as deep as he could go. He could hear Castiel chanting ‘no no no’, the angel straining against his bonds. Dean dug his fingers into Castiel’s hair, pushing his face into Dean’s neck. He willed Castiel to mark him but knew that it wasn’t going to happen.

“Just a little bite,” Dean said, feeling his orgasm approaching. “Come on Cas. Mate me.”

Castiel shook his head, trying to pull his head back. Dean was bouncing hard in his lap now, Castiel’s knot starting to catch on his rim. Dean’s orgasm was so close now he could taste it. He slammed himself down hard one last time on Castiel’s cock and came untouched, letting out a long groan. He clenched hard around Castiel and was pleased to feel his knot pop, locking them together.

“What have you done,” Castiel groaned.

“Fucked you,” Dean answered. He drew back, feeling Castiel’s cum flooding inside him. He gently caressed Castiel’s face and took in his panicked, wide-eyed look. “Relax, Cas. Enjoy it.”

“Dean,” Castiel said. “This isn’t you.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Dean said. “This is 100% me. I’ve been wanting to do this for a while. I just kept talking myself out of it.”

“Dean,” Castiel repeated. “Let me take you home. We can fix you.”

“I’m not broken, Cas,” Dean said. “In fact, this is the best I’ve felt in a long time.” He moaned, shifting his hips and feeling Castiel’s knot pulling at him. “Damn you feel good.”

“We can cure you,” Castiel repeated.

“Nothing to ‘cure’,” Dean said. “Get it Cas. I like this new me.”

“You would never allow yourself to become a demon,” Castiel said. “You’d destroy yourself first.”

“Old me, maybe,” Dean said. “That was before I realised how good it feels. No self-doubt. No inhibitions. No responsibility. It’s awesome.”

“Dean…”

“Forget it, Cas,” Dean said. “You’re stuck with me. Literally. Get used to it.”

“I will not accept that.”

“You will,” Dean said. “Because I’m planning on keeping you here. And you will mate me eventually. You wait and see.”

\-----O-----

Dean finished straightening his clothing as he walked through Hell back to the throne room. He’d spent the last few hours with Castiel, fucking him twice more. Each time he’d exposed his neck and offered for Castiel to mate him; each time Castiel had refused. It was frustrating. Dean had known they were truemates and had for a while. Now Castiel knew he had hoped he’d jump at the chance. Apparently not.

Stepping into the throne room Dean raised his brows as he spotted a familiar man sitting in the throne. He was surrounded by subordinates who were talking, Dean hovering at the back of the room and only half-listening. Crowley looked bored but was paying attention, barking off orders and questioning when needed.

Eventually the subordinates left one-by-one, having given their reports and been dismissed. When the last one left Crowley slid out of his chair, his eyes on Dean.

“I didn’t think you’d be back til later,” Dean commented.

“I finished early,” Crowley said. He stepped up to Dean, leaning into him and breathing deep. “You smell like sex.”

“I’ve been busy,” Dean answered.

“They told me you’d been in the dungeon,” Crowley said. He narrowed his eyes. “I’m guessing with Feathers.”

Dean shrugged.

“Take him against his will, did you?” Crowley said. “Because I doubt he’d have sex with a demon.”

“There was coercion,” Dean admitted.

“So you’re going ahead with your plan to get him to mate you,” Crowley said, stepping away. With him went his alpha scent, Dean feeling himself relax. Crowley’s scent wasn’t unpleasant, but it just wasn’t to Dean’s taste. “Your shoulder says you failed.”

“He’s refusing,” Dean said.

“Of course he is,” Crowley dropped back into the throne, picking up his glass of wine. “Did you really expect him to mate a demon?”

“I’d hoped he’d mate by instinct,” Dean said. “Truemates and all that.”

“I really don’t see why you’re even trying,” Crowley said. “Just kill him and be done with it.”

“I’m not killing Cas,” Dean said flatly.

“Listen to me, Dean,” Crowley said, leaning forward. “There’s one thing you need to learn if you want to survive around here. You don’t leave yourself open. You get rid of your weaknesses. That means Feathers and Moose need to go.”

“Sam isn’t a problem and I can take care of Cas,” Dean said.

“Mating Castiel will be a mistake,” Crowley said. “You’ll be leaving yourself open.”

“Look, I intend to mate him,” Dean said. “I mate him and I can kind of control him. I can track him if he ever escapes. I’d know what he’s thinking.”

“That’s not quiet how mating works,” Crowley said.

“And you’re an expert.”

“I’ve had a mate or two,” Crowley admitted. “Killed them.”

“Why?”

“Because mates are a burden,” Crowley said. “Your enemies use them against you. They always turn on you.”

Dean watched him. “Were any of them your truemate?”

“No,” Crowley said. “Never met them.”

“Then you wouldn’t understand.”

“Look, if you’re so keen to be mated then mate me,” Crowley said. “It’ll save everyone a lot of time and effort.”

“Hard pass,” Dean said.

“It would be mutually beneficial,” Crowley said. “You’d have my protection; you’d have my ear.”

“I already have that,” Dean reminded him. “Sorry Crowley, but that just isn’t going to happen.”

Crowley shrugged it off. “It’s not like we haven’t had sex.”

“We had a foursome,” Dean said. “No knotting.”

“Unfortunately,” Crowley said. “But I bet you knotted with Feathers.”

“Yeah,” Dean admitted. “Three times.”

“Just don’t get pregnant,” Crowley said. “That’d be the last thing either of us need.”

Dean moved toward the throne, dropping into the nearby chair that Crowley had brought in specifically for Dean. “Any leads on Cas’ grace?”

“Not yet,” Crowley said. “And that’s not from lack of looking.”

“What about any spare angel grace?” Dean asked.

“Why would you want to power him up?” Crowley asked.

“If he burns out his grace he could die.”

“Let him.”

Dean shot Crowley a glare. “Just try and get him some angel juice.”

“If you insist,” Crowley said, rolling his eyes. “You could get it yourself you know.”

“Been a bit busy with your list.”

“Yes, I’ve heard,” Crowley said with a smile. “Making short work of it, aren’t you.”

“Feel free to add more names,” Dean said with a smirk.

“Trust me, that will happen.” He shrugged. “You’re certainly not making any friends.”

“I’m not here to make friends,” Dean said.

“Apparently.” Crowley’s eyes drifted down toward the First Blade. “How’s the blood lust?’

“Sated at the moment,” Dean said. “But it keeps coming back.”

“We can always lock the blade away if it gets too much.”

Dean patted the First Blade. “No, I think I’ll keep it handy. Never know when you might need it.”

“Fair enough.”

Dean settled into his chair. It wasn’t as flashy as the throne – just an average wooden chair. It was a little uncomfortable but this was Hell. You weren’t supposed to enjoy yourself when you were here. He lounged back, stretching his legs out in front of him and watching as Crowley sipped from his wine. The King looked contemplative. Dean wondered what was running through his head.

“Hey Crowley?” Dean asked. “Before you made a deal to become an alpha, what were you?”

“An alpha with three extra inches you mean,” Crowley said. “I was a beta.”

Dean frowned. “Isn’t that what people prefer?”

“No.” Crowley said. “In my time alphas were more desired and had more influence. Betas were just the plebs.”

“Plebs?”

“Common folk,” Crowley explained. “Being an alpha gave you status. If you wanted to get anywhere it required it.”

“So you made your deal to get more status,” Dean said.

“Exactly.”

“Sounds like you.” Dean raised an eyebrow. “Did it work?”

“No.” Crowley scowled. “Once a beta, always assumed to be a beta.”

“Huh.” Dean looked at him. “So you wasted your deal.”

“I wouldn’t say I ‘wasted’ it.” Crowley said. “I became more desirable. Had more sex than I had had in my entire life up until that point.”

“Plus your demon is an alpha,” Dean said.

“And my vessel,” Crowley said. “Being an alpha is definitely a perk in Hell.”

“I’ve noticed.” Dean looked down at himself. “Which is why so many demons are rebelling against you. You took an omega as your side kick.”

“I took a Knight of Hell,” Crowley corrected. “Who was one of the most dangerous men alive. It would do them well to remember that.”

“Is that why you’ve got me killing?” Dean asked. “To remind them?”

“Partially,” Crowley said. “You also desire to kill. It keeps you sated.”

“Yeah. Thanks for that.” Dean rested his elbows on his knees. “So you heard from Sam?”

“The Moose is not really a problem right now,” Crowley said. “He still doesn’t know you’re a demon, and he hasn’t yet realised Feathers is missing.”

“He’s going to work it out,” Dean said. “About Cas. About me.”

“In time.” Crowley said. “The longer we can delay the inevitable the better.”

“Surprised you haven’t killed him,” Dean said.

“I’ll leave that up to you,” Crowley said.

Dean frowned. “You want me to kill my brother?”

“Quite frankly, yes,” Crowley said. “Him and Feathers both. But you’re not going to do that, are you.”

Dean shook his head. He knew it would only be a matter of time before he would have to make a decision about Sam though. Once Sam found out what Dean had become he would become single minded on trying to capture and cure Dean. He would also try and rescue Castiel once he knew what had happened to him. Crowley was right in saying the longer they delayed it the better.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Crowley said.

“Just thinking that you’re right,” Dean said. “That I probably show my face around too much topside.”

“It will make it hard to hunt if you don’t,” Crowley said. “Speaking of hunting, I have an errand I would like you to run.”

Dean looked at him. “What? Am I your errand boy now?”

“I think you’d like this errand,” Crowley said. “A vampire alpha made a deal with me. They broke it.”

“I get it,” Dean said. “You want me to wipe them out.”

“And their entire nest,” Crowley said. “Think you can handle that?”

“Just point the way,” Dean said, fingers resting on the First Blade.


	3. Chapter 3

The demons had moved Castiel from the chair to the wall. He was still sitting, his hands shackled on either side of his head against the brickwork. He had his eyes closed, focussing on his breathing to pass the time. As a full angel breathing was just a means of keeping the vessel alive, but he was more human than angel these days. He could still feel the stolen grace burning within him, but it was growing dimmer by the day.

He felt dirty. His skin crawled as he remembered the way Dean had wrapped himself around him. Castiel swallowed the lump in his throat. He knew that the demon _was_ Dean, but at the same time it wasn’t the man that Castiel had come to know and love. The real Dean was lost beneath the murky blackness of his corrupted soul, the Mark burning into it.

On the plus side Castiel knew that he and Dean had not conceived a child, and he was thankful for that. He would have sensed it if a Nephilim had come into being. He felt sick at the thought – such a creature destroyed its host when it was born. Even as a demon Dean would be killed if he gave birth to it.

An omega. Castiel opened his eyes and stared at the roof. How had he missed that. He had dragged Dean from Hell and partially rebuilt his body, but he had missed the fact that Dean was an omega. He had always assumed Dean was a beta. He had always known that Dean smelt good, but that scent had always been suppressed.

How was it that he even had a truemate? Angels weren’t supposed to mate. Angels were servants of Heaven and nothing more. They weren’t supposed to love, feel emotion, and definitely weren’t supposed to mate. Mating was supposed to be for procreation and angels were forbidden from doing that. That was why Nephilims killed their host.

Castiel let out a shuddering breath, the memory of Dean’s scent washing over him. He could still partially smell Dean on him. Dean hadn’t bothered to clean his cum off of Castiel’s chest, instead smearing it into the skin. It had long since dried and begun to flake off, leaving him itchy but unable to scratch. It was like Dean was marking him in his own way.

He shook his head. Why was Dean so keen on mating with him? It made no sense. Dean had always held him at arm’s length, insisting that Castiel was a brother much like Sam was. Yet here he was, a demon, begging for Castiel to mate him. No, not begging – ordering. Deep down Castiel’s instincts were telling him to do it, but he had refused them. He was not mating a demon. He was not mating Dean.

He knew how vulnerable it would make him if he did. Truemates in particular were a rare thing, and their bond was stronger than that of a regular mating. They could sense what each other was thinking, would instinctually know when the other was near. They would essentially become one on a level that no other could experience.

It was another reason that angels didn’t mate. Angels were eternal – humans were not. Losing a mate, especially a truemate, was detrimental to the surviving mate. The broken bond would leave you vulnerable and broken. Sure the bond could survive to Heaven (or Hell) but while you were still on Earth it would burn. Mating with a human Dean only to lose him would cripple Castiel.

But as a demon Dean was also eternal. Castiel knew his mere being a demon would seep into Castiel’s grace, corrupting it. At the same time he knew his grace would seep through the mating mark to Dean and burn more than holy water could. It would be an excruciatingly painful existence for both of them. So why was Dean so keen on doing it?

Perhaps he didn’t know. Castiel knew he would need to explain it to Dean the next time he came down here. Castiel shuddered, remember what Dean had done to him. Castiel’s body had completely betrayed him, responding positively to Dean’s advances. His body had wanted to knot and breed Dean, and Dean knew it. He had said so much during their third knotting.

Between knotting’s Dean had lounged around the room, talking about the various demons he had killed while he was a Knight of Hell. He had gone into detail, painting a vivid picture of each of the murders. There had been bloodlust in his eyes as he went into detail, one hand resting on the First Blade. Castiel had sensed the Mark burning in Dean as he relived the moments.

One thing was for sure, when Castiel got Dean out of there and cured him they would need to find some way of removing the Mark. He was still mad that Dean had taken it in the first place. He really shouldn’t have been surprised that the Mark had corrupted Dean to the point that he had become a demon. That was what had happened to Cain and all others who had taken it in the past.

Sam had been researching ways to remove it before Dean had died. Hopefully he had found something by now. When Dean’s body had disappeared they had both assumed the worst, but this was far worse than what Castiel had ever imagined it could be. It would only be a matter of time before Sam realised what Dean was. He knew it was going to break Sam’s heart.

Castiel looked up as he heard footsteps approaching, expecting them to pass by his cell. Instead they stopped, the locks on the door pulling back. Castiel drew his legs up to himself, trying to protect his modesty as best he could. He gritted his teeth, expecting to see demon guards or worse – Dean. He was surprised when Crowley stepped into the room.

Crowley’s nose crinkled as he walked over to him. “This room stinks.”

“My apologies for not airing it out,” Castiel quipped. “Unfortunately there are no windows.”

“Save your quips,” Crowley said, coming to kneel beside him. “Been a while, Feathers.”

“What do you want?’ Castiel asked.

“Just thought I’d come check on you.” Crowley reached out, turning Castiel’s head and inspecting his neck. “So he hasn’t bitten you yet. Interesting.”

“I’m not mating him,” Castiel said.

“I know you’re not. You’d never mate a demon.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes. “How did you know he’d become a demon?”

“Gut instinct,” Crowley said. “Heard he’d died; thought I’d check in on him.”

“So you took Dean from the bunker,” Castiel guessed.

Crowley nodded.

“How did you get inside?”

“Doesn’t take much to take down weak warding,” Crowley said. “Besides, I’m not a regular demon.”

Castiel stared at him.

“Mind you, I can see the appeal,” Crowley said as he looked down Castiel’s body to his crotch. “Why he’d want to mate you, I mean.”

Castiel tried to cross his legs to cover himself.

“If you’ve got it, flaunt it,” Crowley said with a smile.

“Why are you here?” Castiel asked.

“Information,” Crowley said. “I’m trying to find your grace.”

“Why?”

“Because your boyfriend is fixated on it,” Crowley said. “I can’t imagine why.”

“I can’t help you,” Castiel said. “I don’t know what Metatron did with it.”

“But you know Metatron,” Crowley probed. “Where would he take it?”

“You mean where would he hide it?” Castiel thought for a long moment, thinking about what he knew of Metatron. “If I were him I would hide it in a library.”

“That certainly narrows it down,” Crowley said sarcastically.

“I’m sorry I can’t be more specific,” Castiel deadpanned.

“Great.” Crowley sighed. “So we’re stuck at square one.”

“Let me out and I can find it myself,” Castiel said.

Crowley huffed. “You know as well as I do that you’re not leaving this cell.”

“Why?” Castiel asked. “Does Dean have some control over you?”

“Hardly,” Crowley said. “We have an… arrangement. I stay King of Hell; I give him jobs to fulfil his blood lust.”

“What kind of jobs?”

“Just taking care of some problems,” Crowley said. “Don’t worry, Moose isn’t one of them.”

“Yet,” Castiel said. “Why haven’t you killed me?”

“Believe me, I would like too,” Crowley said. “Top of my list in fact. Unfortunately part of my arrangement with Dean involves you being alive.”

“So what? He can continue to rape me?”

“Such a horrid word,” Crowley said. “It’s not like you haven’t wanted it.”

“Not under these circumstances,” Castiel said.

“Not as a demon you mean,” Crowley said. “I guess we can’t have everything we want.”

Castiel eyed him, then looked over his shoulder. “Not that it matters. I’m dying anyway.”

“I’d noticed,” Crowley said. “That borrowed grace isn’t really working out for you.”

“It’s poisoning me,” Castiel confirmed. “When it burns out I will die.”

“And the clocks ticking,” Crowley gave him a measured look. “I’d say two weeks.”

“Less,” Castiel said.

“You realise Dean won’t allow it to happen.”

“He will if you stop him.”

Crowley narrowed his eyes. “You want to martyr yourself.”

Castiel set his jaw and remained silent.

“You really have been spending too much time with the Winchesters,” Crowley said. “You’re trying to burn your grace out.”

“It will decay faster in Hell,” Castiel said. “An angel is not supposed to be here.”

“And you’re stuck here.” Crowley ran his eyes over him, Castiel sensing that he was looking deeper than the surface layer to Castiel’s grace. “I can see it decaying. Unfortunately there’s not much I can do to prevent that outside of finding your own grace. I’m guessing that won’t decay as fast.”

“No.” Castiel said.

“Well that puts us in an interesting position,” Crowley said. “Dean won’t let you go, and you will die if you stay.”

“If you won’t free me then let nature run its course,” Castiel said.

Crowley let out a long breath, Castiel almost able to see the cogs turning in his mind. Abruptly Crowley stood, smoothing down his shirt and dusting off his pants. “You realise I’m going to inform Dean of the situation.”

“Or you could keep it to yourself,” Castiel said, looking up at him. “He doesn’t have to know.”

“I’m the one who’s going to have to deal with the fallout if you die,” Crowley said. “Be seeing you soon, Cassie.”

Castiel watched as Crowley walked away, leaving via the door and locking it behind him. Castiel felt himself deflate, relaxing back against the wall as best he could. His arms had started to ache but there was nothing he could do about it. He contemplated what Crowley had told him, wondering just what Dean would want to restore his grace. Perhaps it was a good thing – powered up Castiel might actually stand a chance at escaping.

For the meantime though all he could do was wait, either for freedom or death. Whichever came first.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean wandered back into Hell and scowled as he took in the smell of sulphur. It was one thing he hated about the place – it stank. He supposed he would get used to it over time. It didn’t seem to bother the other demons. He sniffed himself and noted that he himself had a faint sulphur smell to him. It was just under his natural smell but it was there.

It had taken him a few days to track down the vampire nest that Crowley wanted dealt with, and another couple of days to wipe them all out. It had been a fairly large nest. Normally Dean wouldn’t have stood a chance going up against such a large nest solo, but now he was a Knight of Hell with the Mark and the First Blade he was virtually unstoppable. He had relished their blood as he had slaughtered them, leaving nothing but bodies in his wake.

He had cleaned up before he had headed back to Hell. He had also stopped at a bar and had a few drinks (on Crowley’s tab) in celebration. An alpha had made a move on him but Dean had put him down quick smart. That alpha would think twice before accosting an omega in the future. Dean smirked as he remembered the look of fear in the alpha’s eyes as Dean had stood over him, the alpha clutching his broken arm and gurgling on his own blood. Dean had left before the police could arrive.

He stepped into the throne room to find Crowley practically dozing in his seat. Dean knew he was awake – demons didn’t need to sleep. It was probably pure boredom that was gripping the King. Crowley’s eyes flicked up toward him as Dean entered, the King straightening in his seat and stretching.

“Welcome back,” he purred. “Have an enjoyable hunt?”

“The vampires won’t cause you any more problems,” Dean said, stopping before the throne. “Took out every single last one of them.”

“Well done.” Crowley pushed himself up out of his seat, coming to stand before Dean. “So now we know you can handle a vampire nest. What challenge do you feel like next?”

“I’ll take anything you can throw at me,” Dean said.

“Pleased to hear it.” Crowley walked over to the side, picking up a bottle and pouring out two tumblers of whiskey. “There’s nothing that needs your attention immediately. Unless, of course, you want to pick a few more names off your list.”

“I might take a couple of days down time,” Dean said. He rubbed his arm where the Mark was. “It’s pretty sated right now.”

“It’s not getting worse, is it?” Crowley asked. “The blood lust isn’t getting stronger and more frequent?”

“Seems to be staying fairly steady,” Dean said. “I kill, it’s happy for a few days, and then I want to kill again.”

“Well there’s plenty of killing to do,” Crowley said. He handed Dean a glass, then swirled his own around in the tumbler. “Perhaps your next target should be an angel.”

“I’m not killing Cas,” Dean said, levelling a glare on Crowley.

“I wasn’t referring to Castiel,” Crowley said, sipping from his drink. “But he is going to need grace soon if you intend to keep him alive.”

Dean frowned. “What’s the matter with the grace he has?”

“It’s decaying,” Crowley said. “Rather quickly at that. So it might be in your best interest to get some more.”

Dean nodded, sipping from his drink. It was top shelf stuff. “Any leads on his actual grace?”

“None,” Crowley said. “We’ve narrowed it down to possibly being in a library, but there are hundreds of thousands of those around the world. We’re looking into whether Gadreel or Metatron visited any of them.”

“Gadreel,” Dean said. “Pity we can’t ask him.”

“Pity we can’t ask Metatron,” Crowley said. “Perhaps before you kill the angel you can ask if there is any way to get information out of Metatron given they have him holed up in Heaven.”

“I’m sure they’ve tried,” Dean said, taking a sizeable drink from the Whiskey. He gestured to it. “This is good stuff. Where’d you get it?”

“We own the distillery,” Crowley explained.

Dean frowned.

“You’d be surprised what Hell owns,” Crowley said. “Not all deals involve souls.”

“You mean like the moon,” Dean said.

“Exactly.” Crowley took a drink for himself. “Anyway, you might want to go check on your angel. See how he’s holding up, although I would advise against doing anything… too recreational with him in his current condition.”

Dean narrowed his eyes. “You’ve been to check on him.”

“I’ve had my guards keeping an eye on him, yes,” Crowley said. “Got to make sure the blighter doesn’t escape.”

“Right.” Dean raised a brow. “Has he tried?”

“He’s not in a position too,” Crowley said. “I believe he just wants to die.”

“Of course he does.” Dean rolled his eyes. Castiel was a Winchester after all. Self-sacrifice was the name of the game. Dean finished his drink, placing the glass down. “I better go check on him.”

“Have fun,” Crowley said.

\-----O-----

Castiel was fading faster than he had thought he would. He could feel his grace dwindling the longer he was in Hell. The darkness of the place was eating away at his light. He was tired, leaning heavily back against the wall with only his arms being pinned holding him upright. He had started to doze, something that was altogether too human for an angel. He kept trying to shift around to keep the blood moving through his legs, but it was hard with the way he was pinned against the wall.

His eyes snapped open at the sound of footsteps, Castiel taking in the familiar tread. Dean. He looked up toward the doorway as the footsteps stopped before it, the locks sliding away. Castiel drew his legs in, trying to curl up into as small a target as possible and protect himself. He remembered what had happened the last time Dean had been in the room with him.

Dean stepped into the room, his eyes instantly finding Castiel. He frowned as he crossed the space toward him. “You look shit.”

Castiel didn’t answer, averting his gaze.

Dean knelt beside him, catching Castiel under the jaw and lifting his chin to gaze down at him. “Crowley wasn’t kidding when he said your grace is fading. You need juice bad.”

“I don’t want any,” Castiel said, his voice sounding strange to his ears. It had been days since he had spoken.

“Want it or not you’re going to get it,” Dean said. He ran his eyes over Castiel, taking him in. “How human are you?”

“My decaying grace isn’t making me human,” Castiel told him.

“No. It’s making you dead,” Dean said. “You look sick.”

Castiel didn’t reply. He knew he was unwell. He was tired all the time, and had actually started to sweat. That was unusual for him – he normally didn’t sweat at all. His whole body felt clammy, and he was sure he was pale. He didn’t have the energy to fight with Dean should he try anything.

“Okay,” Dean said, nodding to himself. “Okay. So I’ve got to get you some grace. Got any angels you want dead?”

Castiel glared at him.

“C’mon, Cas. There’s got to be someone you don’t like.” Dean shrugged. “Would you rather I took someone you did like? What’s that friend of yours… Hannah?”

“Leave her alone,” Castiel said, feeling panic flash through him. “Leave all of my brothers and sisters alone.”

“I’m afraid that’s not how it’s going to work,” Dean said. “You need juice and there’s only one way to get it. Unless we find your own grace, but I doubt we’ve got time for that, do we?”

“Just let me die, Dean.”

“Not happening,” Dean said. He gently caressed Castiel’s face, noting the stubble. He smoothed a hand over Castiel’s jaw, feeling Castiel jerk back from his touch. He stood. “I will find you some juice. I promise.”

“Dean, don’t,” Castiel said.

“I promise,” Dean repeated, heading for the door.

Castiel watched him go, listening to the heavy door swing closed and the locks slide back into place. He slumped back against the wall, feeling sick. He knew his brethren were going to die and there was nothing he could do about it. He squeezed his eyes closed as his eyes burned faintly with tears. He just wanted to die. Why couldn’t Dean just let him die?


	5. Chapter 5

It didn’t take Dean as long as he thought to hunt down at angel. He walked into the restaurant, spotting the angel sitting in the back corner drinking a coffee. Dean narrowed his eyes as he saw the grace flickering within the angel, so much brighter and pure than the grace he could see within Castiel. The angel didn’t seem to notice him as Dean made his way through the room.

It wasn’t until Dean was sliding into the seat across from the angel did he look up, his eyes widening as he spotted Dean.

“You’re…” the angel stammered.

“Looking for you,” Dean said with a smirk. “Got a name?”

“Isiah,” the angel said. “I know who you are. You’re dead.”

“Technically speaking,” Dean agreed.

“You’re a demon.”

“Thank you Captain Obvious,” Dean said. “We need to talk.”

“Why?” Isiah asked. “What do you want with me?”

“Castiel’s grace,” Dean said. “I’m looking for it.”

The angel shook his head. “We have been too. We’ve failed to locate it.”

“Have you tried asking Metatron?”

Isiah nodded. “He’s been interrogated but he hasn’t broken.”

“Maybe you need a better torturer,” Dean said, gesturing to himself.

“Metatron is not to leave his cell,” Isiah said. “Orders.”

“Whose?”

“Hannah’s,” Isiah said. “Until Castiel returns she’s in charge.”

“Hannah,” Dean repeated. “Castiel’s friend.”

Isiah nodded.

“Is that who’s been interrogating Metatron?”

“No,” Isiah said. “Naomi’s been doing that.”

“That bitch still around?” Dean said. “I thought she knew how to crack an angel’s skull. Doesn’t she perform grace lobotomies?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Isiah confirmed. “We suspect even Metatron may not know the exact location of the grace himself.”

“So he hid it from himself,” Dean said. “Smart. That way if someone does interrogate you you have nothing to give up.”

“We suspect that was his intention,” Isiah said. “We’ve been trying to narrow down the location though. He refuses to do so.”

“Again, maybe you need a better integrator,” Dean said. He ran his gaze over the angel, noticing that he was fidgeting and refusing to meet Dean’s eye. He was surprised that he was getting as much information as he was out of the angel. “Have you tried removing Metatron’s grace and using it as a bargaining chip?”

Isiah’s eyes widened. “I’m… not sure.”

“You’re not very high up the food chain, are you,” Dean observed.

Isiah shook his head.

“Figures. So I need to talk to Hannah,” Dean raised a brow. “Pretty sure Cas has her in the contacts of his phone. I’ll have to give her a call.”

Isiah frowned, eyes looking up. “You know where Castiel is?”

“He’s safe,” Dean said. “I am going to need something from you though.”

Isiah blinked. “What?”

Dean slid Castiel’s angel blade from his belt, catching Isiah by the front of his shirt and dragging him forward. He slashed Isiah across the throat, ignoring the cries and screams from elsewhere in the café. Dean pulled a bottle out of his pocket and let the glowing stream flow out of Isiah into the bottle. Once he had it all he capped it, slipping it back into his pocket.

Turning the angel blade he stabbed Isiah through the heart. “No hard feelings,” he said as he watched the light fade from Isiah’s eyes. “Just can’t have you blabbing to the higher ups.”

He let the body fall back, slipping out of the chair and heading for the door. An alpha tried to block his path but Dean threw him aside with the flick of his wrist. No one else tried to oppose him as he left the café and stepped out into the street. He hooked the angel blade back to his belt and straightened his shirt before he made his way back to Hell.

\-----O-----

Castiel could feel the last of his stolen grace fading rapidly. He had been deliberately trying to burn it out, using it to try and force himself free of his bonds. He could feel the darkness spreading through him, his senses dulling. He knew it would only be a matter of time now before the last of his grace burned out and burned him out with it.

He had started shaking now and not from the cold. He felt so tired that he had been dozing on and off, only waking when someone walked past his cell. He willed his end to come as he knew it was probably the only way he would be able to leave this place. He felt bad for Sam knowing that there was nothing he could do for the younger Winchester and hoping that he could find some way of saving Dean.

He could barely raise his head when the door to the cell opened, Castiel having missed the approaching footsteps. He blurrily looked up and spotted Dean making his way into the cell, a frown on Dean’s face as he came to kneel beside Castiel. A hand caught him under the chin and lifted his head back, Dean gazing down at him with his green eyes.

“Looks like I made it just in time,” Dean said. “There’s not much left of you.”

“Leave me,” Castiel pleaded.

“Not happening, Cas.” Dean reached into his pocket and drew out a bottle, Castiel’s eyes locking on it. It was a bottle of grace. He recognised that instantly. “Got you a present.”

“No,” Castiel said, weakly shaking his head.

“Not giving you a choice.”

Dean opened the bottle and tilted Castiel’s head back. He held the bottle against Castiel’s lips. Castiel tried to resist it but could feel the grace rising toward him like metal to a magnet. He inhaled, the grace seeping in through him. He instantly felt his body begin to warm, the power coursing through him as he took it in. He tested his bonds again and found that they were still too strong for him, a move that Dean didn’t miss.

“There you go,” Dean said. “Feel better?”

“Who was it?’ Castiel asked, guilt pouring through him.

“Said their name was Isiah,” Dean said. “Don’t think they were very high up in ranks.”

Castiel tried to think of who Isiah was, remembering that he was one of the lower ranked angels. They hadn’t really known each other but he knew Isiah had been working with Hannah. He swallowed down the lump in his throat, feeling sick.

“Did you kill him?” Castiel asked.

“Yeap,” Dean said, shrugging. “No loose ends.”

Castiel felt a fresh wave of guilt rush over him. “No more, Dean. No more grace.”

“Then stop burning it out,” Dean said. Dean reached out, gently running his hands through Castiel’s hair. He leaned in, pressing his lips to Castiel’s ear. “I’m not going to let you die. You keep burning it out and I’ll keep getting more. Do you understand?”

“I understand,” Castiel said.

“Good.” Dean pressed a kiss to the side of his face, smoothing a hand over Castiel’s jaw. “Any thoughts about mating me yet?”

“The answer is still no,” Castiel said.

“Mm. Guess I’ll just have to find other ways of persuading you,” Dean said. “Maybe I should grab Hannah. Bring her in here and torture her until you say yes.”

“Then you will never find my grace,” Castiel said. “Hannah is your best chance of finding it.”

Dean seemed to consider that. “You might be right about that. What I really need is Metatron. Give me five minutes alone with him and I’ll have him singing.”

“Metatron will not be released from Heaven,” Castiel said.

“Yeah, I know. Your orders.” Dean said. “Maybe I should bring you to the Heaven’s gate and get your to override them.”

“No orders can override them,” Castiel told him. “Not even mine.”

“Figures.” Dean trailed his hand down Castiel’s chest, finding the warding tattoo and tracing his fingers over the Enochian lettering. “You know you should have gotten an anti-possession tattoo. You’re leaving yourself open.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes as he gazed up at Dean. “Are you intending to possess me?”

“Couldn’t even if I wanted to,” Dean said, tapping his own tattoo. “Keeps me sealed inside.”

“So you’re trapped,” Castiel observed. That was some interesting information. It meant that when Sam eventually captured Dean he could hold him without having to worry about Dean smoking out.

“I wouldn’t say ‘trapped’,” Dean said. “It just makes things more interesting.”

Dean settled in beside Castiel, smoothing his hands up the inside of Castiel’s thighs. Castiel kept his thighs firmly pressed together. Dean made an annoyed sound before forcing Castiel’s knees apart, sliding into the gap between them. Castiel stared him down as Dean reached forward and wrapped his hand around Castiel’s cock.

“Are you intending on raping me again?” Castiel asked.

“It’s only rape if you don’t want it,” Dean teased.

“I don’t.”

“Sure, Cas. Your body says otherwise.”

Castiel held his eye as Dean kept stroking him. Castiel forced himself to keep his breathing even despite the fact he once again felt his body betraying him. Dean gave him a sweet look as he continued to stroke him to full hardness, and then with a wink Dean lowered himself down and took Castiel’s cock into his mouth.

Castiel looked away, staring at a mark on the opposite wall as the warm heat of Dean’s mouth surrounded him. Dean wasn’t gentle or slow, seeming to be keen on getting Castiel to come as quickly as he could. His head bobbed up and down in Castiel’s lap, Castiel once again trying to force his bonds to break and finding himself trapped fast.

It wasn’t long before Castiel felt the heat growing in his abdomen as his knot began to swell. Dean wrapped his hand around it and began to stroke it in time with the movements of his mouth. Castiel felt his breathing become laboured. He squeezed his eyes closed, trying to force himself to keep from coming. Unfortunately his body had other ideas, Castiel’s hips stuttering slightly as his knot popped in Dean’s hand and he found himself coming.

Dean swallowed down his come, the sensation further flaring Castiel’s arousal. He could smell Dean’s sweet omega scent, and the word ‘mate’ echoed through his mind. He quashed the thought as quickly as it had come though. He wondered absently if it was Dean’s smell that made his so receptive to Dean’s ministrations.

“You taste so good,” Dean purred, pulling off Castiel’s cock and gently massaging his knot. “Be even better if you were locked in me.” He tapped his neck. “Just need a bite right here and it would be perfect.”

“No,” Castiel said through gritted teeth.

“Oh come on, Cas,” Dean said, sitting up. There was a dribble of cum on his chin. Castiel couldn’t take his eyes off it. “It’s going to happen.”

“It can assure you that it is not,” Castiel said.

“If I was human what would you say?”

“If you were human we would not be in this situation,” Castiel said. “You would never have bound me and used me against my will.”

“It’s not like I didn’t think about it,” Dean said. “I had plenty of dirty little fantasies of handcuffing you to the bed while I ride you.”

Castiel didn’t answer. He reminded himself that this was not Dean but rather a demon talking. Demon’s lie. They would say anything to get what they wanted. He had no way of verifying what Dean was saying was true so he could only assume that it was fake.

“You don’t believe me,” Dean observed, clearly annoyed. “Okay. Fine. Don’t.”

He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the corner of Castiel’s mouth. Dean abruptly stood, sliding the empty grace bottle back into his pocket. He gazed down at Castiel for a long moment before he made a small noise of frustration. Castiel watched as he headed toward the door and exited the cell, closing and locking it behind him and leaving Castiel to his own thoughts.


	6. Chapter 6

Crowley looked up as he heard footsteps, spotting Dean as he wandered into the room. Crowley’s nose twitched as he smelt the scent of alpha. Clearly Dean had been with Castiel again. He brushed it off, going back to what he was doing and focussing on making the hex bags. He saw Dean stop by the doorway and watch him.

“Are you just going to stand there or are you going to say something?’ Crowley asked.

Dean didn’t answer.

“I’m not in the best of moods today so don’t try my patience,” Crowley growled.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked, a frown on his face.

“What’s it look like?” Crowley asked, sealing up the bag and moving onto the next one.

“Since when do you need hex bags?”

“A good demon uses everything at his disposal to get what he wants,” Crowley explained. “I know witchcraft, therefore I use it.”

“Right.”

A thoughtful look crossed Dean’s face. Crowley could see him plotting something in his head. Crowley rolled his eyes, feeling a bubble of frustration pushing up from inside him. Dean seemed to be getting on his last nerve today. He hadn’t been lying when he said he hadn’t been in the best mood. Everything hadn’t been going well and Crowley was ready to lash out.

“Hey Crowley, can I ask something?”

“I’m sure you’re about to,” Crowley said.

“Can witchcraft bring on a heat and a rut?”

Crowley paused in what he was doing, the puzzle pieces snapping together in his mind. He looked over at Dean and saw the thoughtful look on his face. “You’re trying to force the mating.”

Dean raised a brow. “Can it?”

“Why are you so intent on mating with him?” Crowley asked, going back to his hex bags. “He’s a liability.”

“You’re not answering the question.”

“Yes it can,” Crowley answered. “It can also influence how strong the reaction is. You want a minor heat you can control, you can get that. You want an animalistic rut you can have it. However the process can have negative side effects.”

“One of those being mating?” Dean asked hopefully.

“Just kill Feathers and be done with it,” Crowley said. “He wants to die; let him.”

“He’s not going to die,” Dean said. “I just juiced him up. Should give him more time until we find his grace.”

“You what!” Crowley slammed the bag down on the table and stared at Dean. “You recharged the angel we have in our dungeon? Are you mad?”

“If I didn’t he’d be dead,” Dean countered.

“Good!” Crowley felt his anger simmering through him. He wanted so badly to punch Dean. “You’re a fool, you know that?”

“Look, can you do a spell or not?” Dean asked.

“Not a spell, no,” Crowley said, feeling his frustration simmering beneath his veins. “A potion. Never fails.”

Dean frowned. “So I’d just need to get him to drink it?”

“Or better yet simply inject it straight into him,” Crowley said. “I take it you want me to make this potion.”

“Obviously,” Dean said. “How long will it take?”

“I have most of the ingredients here,” Crowley said as he gestured to the room around them. “You’ll need to fetch me a few things though.”

Dean frowned. “Can’t you send your minions for them?”

“And waste manpower?” Crowley grunted. “You want the potion, you collect the ingredients yourself.”

“Fine.” Dean scowled. “Just give me the list.”

“Give me an hour,” Crowley said. “I’ll get you your list. Although I still fail to see why you’re wasting your time with him. He’s a liability and will be even more so when you’re mated to him.”

“I think you’re just jealous,” Dean said, walking toward the door. “You want to mate me yourself.”

“You wish,” Crowley said. “Mates are a burden. You would be more of a burden than most.”

“Why?” Dean asked. “Because you can’t control me?”

“Aside from being able to kill you are useless,” Crowley said. “You can’t even smoke out of that body of yours. You can’t do deals without messing them up. Your first thought is to destroy everything you touch. And you refuse to kill Moose and Feathers which means you’re compromised.”

“Yeah well I’m not your biggest fan either,” Dean said.

“Leave me to write your list,” Crowley said. “And try not to break anything this time.”

Dean glared at him and walked out of the room. Crowley let out a long sigh, shaking his head and muttering under his breath as he went back to making the hex bags. He’d finish his current task before starting on the one for Dean. He wondered if maybe he should switch the potion and give Castiel something lethal instead. He knew that wouldn’t work out well for him though.

He really did not understand why Dean was so intent on being mated. He put it down to the animal part of Dean’s brain. Crowley had known for years that Dean and the angel had been circling each other. Now he was without inhibitions that part of Dean just wanted to charge head first into a mating.

Then again, Crowley did see how it could be useful. If mated to Dean there was less of a chance that Castiel would try and escape. And if he did escape then Dean would be able to track him. Not to mention if Feathers dared to try and plot anything Dean would be able to sense his betrayal before it happened. So maybe there were a few perks.

That didn’t take away the negatives though. If Dean could sense Castiel then Castiel would also be able to sense Dean. There was also no telling what being mated to an angel would do to Dean’s demon. The grace would leak through the bond. Crowley had read about it. That was why angels rarely mated. That and the fact they were prone to be devoid of all emotion. Castiel seemed to be a very special case.

Glancing up at the door Crowley did feel a slight pang about being rejected by Dean. No one had ever rejected Crowley before, at least while he had been a demon. At least no one who had stayed alive. Rejection tended to have fatal consequences when it came to Crowley. Then again so did mating. Crowley had killed his prior mates in the past once they had ceased being useful.

But what could he do? Dean was dead set on mating with Castiel despite what was in everyone’s best interests. All Crowley could do was make the potions and let Dean deal with the fallout. In the meantime Crowley had Hell to run.

\-----O-----

Sam walked into the house with his gun drawn, fully alert as he moved his way from room to room. He set his jaw as he walked, checking every inch of the building. He frowned as he spotted a body slumped on the floor and moved over to it. He rolled it over and was relieved to find that it wasn’t Castiel.

It had been two weeks now since Sam had talked to Castiel last and Sam was more than a little worried. Castiel had told him that he had a lead on Dean and was going to check it out, and to not follow him should anything happen. It had taken a while for Sam to track down Castiel’s last location, as someone had seemed to be leading him in circles.

Sam inspected the body and frowned as he took it in. Sniffing the air he picked up the scent of sulphur. Demons. There had been demons here. He let his gaze move around the room and saw all the telltale signs of a fight. He frowned as he saw the blood splatter. Someone had gotten hurt. He hoped that someone wasn’t Castiel.

He knew that Castiel’s grace was fading. He worried that the demons had overpowered him and killed him. Sam continued his exploration of the house and found no trace of the angel. He sighed, holstering his weapon and running a hand through his hair.

“Where are you, Cas?” he asked the air.

He pulled out his phone again and dialled Castiel’s number. He frowned as it went straight to voicemail the same way it had been for two weeks now. He waited for the beep.

“Cas, it’s me again,” he said to the answering machine. “Please, if you get this message call me. I’m worried about you.”

He headed back out to the living room and the body, searching it for more clues. He could tell from the wound that the demon had been killed by an angel blade. Clearly Castiel had put up a fight. After one last look around Sam left the house and headed back outside to the Impala. He sat in it for a moment, fingers resting on the steering wheel and closing his eyes.

To say he felt sick was an understatement. It was bad enough that Dean’s body had disappeared, but now Castiel too? They had been getting reported sightings from hunters and chasing them up, but every time they arrived Dean had been nowhere to be seen. It was like they were chasing a ghost.

Opening his eyes Sam turned over the engine and steered the Impala back in the direction of the bunker. It was time for him to regroup. Now he didn’t just need to find Dean but also Castiel. He was going to have to put out word that the angel was missing. Maybe he should try and contact the angels themselves to see if they had any leads. It would be a start. He just needed to work out how to do it.


	7. Chapter 7

Dean hated fetch missions. At least he found it relatively easy to travel now that Crowley had taught him how to move around. It had taken Dean a week to get used to teleporting. His first few attempts had resulted in him bouncing into walls and landing on his arse. Now he could just pick the place and he was there. He still had issues crashing into walls though, and had once teleported by accident into the ladies toilets. He was getting better though.

He picked up the last ingredient that Crowley would need from a mystic in the middle of nowhere, paying her with some rare herbs that Crowley had given him to trade with. Then, with everything tucked into his bag, he made his way back down to Hell.

Arriving in the throne room he found the place a mess. He raised his brows as he saw Crowley standing over a pile of bodies, an angel blade in his hands as he stared down the remaining demons in the room.

“Anyone else got any problems?” Crowley asked.

The surviving demons all shook their head, backing away slowly from the King.

“Good,” Crowley said, his voice raising. “Now get out of my sight and take this trash with you!”

The demons scooped up the bodies and carried them out of the room, all in a rush to get out of there. Dean stood off to the side and watched them go. He was impressed by the amount of fear that Crowley had instilled in them. They looked petrified.

“Tough day?” Dean asked as soon as they were gone.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” Crowley said, setting the angel blade down. “So you’re back.”

“Yeap.” Dean patted his bag. “I got everything on the list.”

“Didn’t take you as long as I thought it would,” Crowley admitted. “Some of those items were tough to come by.”

“I can be very persuasive,” Dean said with a smirk.

“I hope you didn’t kill anyone important,” Crowley said as he walked over to him. He eyed the bag. “Follow me.”

Dean followed him back out into the corridor. The other demons were long gone, but the two guards by the door straightened as they exited. Crowley led the way down the halls to the room where he made his spells, Crowley gesturing for Dean to put the bag down on the table near where he already had various items spread out.

Dean dropped the bag, Crowley reaching in and taking everything out of it.

“This going to take long?” Dean asked.

Crowley glared at him. “It will if you don’t stay silent.”

Dean snapped his mouth closed, walking over to a nearby chair and dropping into it. He pulled out his phone and began scanning through the headlines as he waited. Surprisingly there was reception in Hell. He’d asked Crowley to explain how that worked but the King had simply told him to not ask stupid questions so Dean had left it alone.

He glanced up from time to time to see what Crowley’s status was, finding the demon preparing and working the ingredients. It looked a lot like chemistry in Dean’s opinion. He’d never really taken an interest in magic himself outside of a few minor spells. He understood how hex bags worked but that was about the extent of it. Sam knew a lot more about magic than Dean did.

Dean absently wondered about Sam. He hadn’t had an update on his brother in a while. He knew that Sam was still looking for him despite Dean having told him not too. By now Sam must have also worked out that Castiel was missing as well so he would be looking for him too. Dean wondered what sort of things Crowley’s demons had been leading him on with.

He knew he had to keep a low profile to prevent Sam from working out that Dean was a demon. Crowley had given Dean a stern talking to about preventing his brother from finding out what he really was now. Dean knew that Sam would insist on “curing” him if he ever found out. Dean had no intention of ever letting that happen.

After a while Dean began to doze off, almost dropping his phone in the process. He slipped it back into his pocket and gazed around the room. He briefly contemplated trying to read one of the many books in the room but Crowley had almost filleted him the last time he had tried to touch anything in this room. It was a “no touching” room. Considering the amount of potions and things in here Dean could understand that.

Just when Dean thought that maybe he should go find something to kill Crowley grunted.

“It’s done,” Crowley said, drawing one of the potions up into a syringe. “Just give this to Feathers and it will induce his rut within 24 hours. It will be so intense he won’t be able to think clearly. You’ll get your mating bite.”

“What about my heat?” Dean asked.

Crowley pushed a bottle toward him. “Drink this. You’ll be in heat but still have clarity.”

“Thanks,” Dean said. He picked up the bottle. “When should I drink it?”

“Same as the other. 24 hours,” Crowley said. “Let me reiterate that I think this is a bad idea.”

“Noted,” Dean said, taking the syringe. “Ignored.”

“Typical Winchester,” Crowley mumbled. “At least try to use protection. I don’t need a hormonal bitch lurking around.”

“You know what, fuck you Crowley,” Dean said. He picked up the bottle and brought it to his lips. “I’m trusting that you’re not trying to kill me here.”

“You’re already dead,” Crowley reminded him.

Dean gave him a sideways look and threw back the potion, drinking it all in one go. He pulled a face at the bitter taste, the potion burning all the way down his throat and not in a pleasant way. “Ugh. Maybe I should have opted for an injection too.”

“Stop being a child,” Crowley said. “Now go inject Feathers.”

Dean took the syringe and headed for the dungeon.

\-----O-----

Castiel’s eyes snapped open as he heard footsteps approaching his cell. He drew his body into itself, trying to curl himself up and cover his nudity. He knew it was a pointless practice but he still did what he could.

His new grace had healed his body, Castiel feeling stronger than he had in a long time. He could still feel it burning through him though but he didn’t dare try to burn it out. The last thing he wanted was for more of his brethren to die because of him. He had tried to break his bonds though and discovered that he still wasn’t strong enough. He suspected that there was some kind of angel warding built into them.

The cell door opened, Castiel looking up and watching as Dean entered. There was purpose to Dean’s walk and Castiel had a feeling that was a bad thing. He set his jaw and watched as Dean crossed the room over to him. Dean knelt by his side and grabbed him roughly by the head, jerking it to the side. Before Castiel could react he felt something plunge into his scent gland. A burning feeling rushed through the spot and spread out through his veins.

“What did you just do?” Castiel asked, eyes wide as he finally spotted the syringe in Dean’s hand. “What was that?”

“Just a little incentive,” Dean said with a smirk. “If it works the way it’s supposed to we should be mated in the next couple of days.”

Castiel felt his blood run cold at those words. “Did you just drug me?”

“I thought that would be obvious,” Dean said. He tapped the end of Castiel’s nose with his finger. “Took a little something myself to make things easier.”

“What is it?” Castiel asked. He could feel whatever it was seeping through him. His grace was trying to fight whatever it was. “What have you done to me?”

“You’ll see,” Dean said. “Or you won’t. You’ll probably be too out of it.”

Castiel tried to put the pieces together in his mind. Some sort of drug that would induce a mating could only mean one thing. “You’re trying to trigger a rut.”

“Ding ding, we’ve got a winner,” Dean said with a grin. “Got it in one, Cas. Not bad.”

“Dean, you can’t do this,” Castiel said. “Angels aren’t supposed to go into rut.”

“But you’re more human than angel,” Dean pointed out.

“That’s beside the point,” Castiel said. “My grace will fight it. I don’t know how my body will react.”

“Hopefully the way most alphas react when they go into rut,” Dean said. He pointed to his neck. “Should give me a little mark right here.”

“Angels aren’t supposed to mate,” Castiel countered. “Dean, what you are trying to do is unnatural.”

“You’re an alpha, I’m an omega, and we’re truemates,” Dean reminded him. “Mating is perfectly natural.”

“Not for an angel,” Castiel said. “Dean, this could kill me. It could kill _you_.”

“Stop being such a drama queen,” Dean said. “Nobody’s going to die.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Then I guess we’ll see.” Dean pushed himself up, dusting off his pants. “I’ll see you in about 24 hours. Not that you’ll probably be self-aware. Alpha brain and all that.”

“Dean,” Castiel warned, watching as he walked away. “Dean! You can’t do this! _Dean_!”

Dean left the room and closed the cell door behind him. Castiel heard the heavy locks fall into place. He found that he was panicking, whatever it was rushing through his body. He couldn’t feel any side effects of it yet aside from the fact his grace was fighting it. He squeezed his eyes closed and focused on the feeling. It was like a fire creeping through him, his grace trying to put it out.

Castiel let his head fall back against the wall. He became very aware of how much his body ached from having been stuck in one place for so long. He tried to calm his breathing but found it hard. He was terrified that he could go into a heavy rut and tear Dean apart. He’d heard about stories of drugged alphas laying waste to entire communities. He didn’t even want to think about what he could be capable of.

Looking up toward the roof Castiel opened his mind. “Brothers. Sisters. If you can hear me I am trapped in Hell. They have drugged me. I am scared of what I might do. Please. You must find some way of rescuing me. Please.”

He knew that his prayer probably fell on deaf ears but it was all he could do. Another name crossed his mind, Castiel swallowing.

“Sam,” he said. “Your brother is a demon. He needs to be saved. I’m not sure I can make it out of this alive so it’s up to you. Please help him.”

He let his head fall, closing his eyes again. It was going to be a rough next few hours.


	8. Chapter 8

Crowley drummed his fingers on the armrest of his throne. He had spent the last few hours listening to his foot soldiers drone on about different missions and deals and to say he was bored was an understatement. He knew that all of this was important to maintain the running of Hell but he vastly preferred it when he could just kill someone.

He looked up at the most recent messenger who was filling him in on the status of Sam Winchester. This was at least a little interesting. Apparently Sam had found the place where Castiel had been taken from and was trying to trace the angel from there. Crowley was a little annoyed to find out that his people had left a body at the location. That meant that Sam would know that the demons were involved. He half expected Sam to ring him at some stage now.

The lackey finished giving their report, Crowley waving that they were dismissed. They bowed their head and headed out, another minion stepping forward to take their place. Crowley squinted at him and recognised him as the demon in charge of arranging crossroad deals. He had a stack of papers, no doubt the latest list of deals.

“Are there any that stand out?” Crowley asked when the minion confirmed that they were indeed the new deals from the last week.

“No sir,” the demon said. “A couple of people wanting to be famous, your usual trying to save their families, and one that made a similar deal to yours. No one that really stands out, at least not yet.”

“Keep me appraised if someone really important makes a deal,” Crowley said. “Otherwise I trust you to keep things running smoothly.”

“We are having one problem trying to get payment from someone,” the demon said. “They’ve locked themselves in a warded room. We can’t get to them.”

“Sick Juliet on them,” Crowley said. “She’s trained to get through most demon warding. Otherwise just burn the bloody house down.”

“Yes sir,” the demon bowed and stepped back, retreating out of the room.

Crowley sighed and rubbed his eyes. He really needed a drink. He looked over the remaining demons in front of him and dared one of them to try and step forward with some pointless news. Some demons just liked to be in the throne room for the status and bragging rights of it. And some of those liked to speak up in order to claim they had the ear of the King. He made a decision that the next one who did just that would find themselves served up to the hounds.

None of them dared through much to his disappointment. He pushed himself up and walked over to his supply of alcohol and poured himself a drink. He poured himself out some Craig, filling his glass to the rim and downing at least half of it before taking the remainder back with him to the throne. He settled back into it, looking over the sea of faces and noting that not one of them dared look him in the eye. Apparently his most recent slaughter had gotten out. Good.

“Well do any of you have anything to say?” He asked. “If not then get the hell out of my throne room.”

Most of the demons immediately rushed to the door to get away from his wrath. He narrowed his eyes as he saw a small group hang back. They were fidgeting and whispering amongst themselves. Crowley scented the air, noting that this particular group was made up entirely of alphas. That intrigued him as most of the demons were betas. Alphas tended not to last long, usually killing each other off as they moved up through the ranks.

“Something to say?” He asked them pointedly.

“Sir,” one of them said, stepping forward. “With all due respect we’re questioning your allegiance with Dean Winchester.”

“What about him?” Crowley asked.

“He’s an omega,” the alpha said. “And he’s going into heat. We’re wondering what you’re going to do about that.”

“It’s already taken care of,” Crowley told them. “I am not going to have an omega in heat walking around Hell.”

“Sir,” the demon said. “He has already killed two alphas who approached him.”

“Good. Serves them right.” Crowley sipped from his wine. “He’s a Knight of Hell and he welds the First Blade. Anyone stupid enough to approach him deserves to be dead.”

The alphas exchanged looks. “We’re wondering if you’re intending to mate him.”

“No,” Crowley said flatly. “And neither is anybody else. Like I said – it’s taken care of. He’ll be out of our hair for a week until it passes.”

“Omegas in heat aren’t rational-“

“He’s perfectly rational,” Crowley countered. “Believe me, he knows what he’s doing. I hope he castrates anyone who dares to force themselves on him. Do you understand me?”

The alphas exchanged a weary look, Crowley having a feeling that this wasn’t the last he was going to hear about it. Sure enough one of them cleared their throat.

“Should you really be allying yourself with an omega?”

“That omega is Dean fucking Winchester,” Crowley reminded him. “Knight of Hell, welder of the First Blade. He’s what gives monsters nightmares. Better to have him as an ally than as an enemy. He’d slaughter you all without batting an eyelid. He took down an entire vampire alpha nest without so much as breaking a sweat. Now tell me, do you really want to mess with him?”

The alphas all shook their head, averting their eyes.

“Pleased to see you’re thinking this through.” Crowley said. “Now get out of my sight.”

They left, leaving Crowley to himself. He sighed, taking a longer drink from his glass. He really did hope Dean knew what he was doing. The last thing Crowley needed was an alpha slaughter on his hands. He just hoped Dean had the sense to lock himself in with the angel before his heat became so bad that the alphas were practically forcing themselves on him. Crowley hated having to clean blood up.

\-----O-----

Dean stepped into the cell and instantly stopped as he was hit with the overwhelming scent of alpha. He smiled, closing the door behind him. It had been almost 24 hours since he had taken Crowley’s potion and he could feel his body begging to be mated. His heat was strong but not overwhelming, Dean able to think clearly and make rational decisions.

He wiped the blood from his hands onto his clothing. On the way down to the cell he had been jumped by at least three alphas. He had made short work of them, slaying them quickly and leaving their bodies for someone else to clean up. Most alphas seemed to be hanging back but he had been able to sense their desire to mate him. He knew his omega scent was most likely driving them insane.

Dean looked across the room to where Castiel was slumped against the wall, his arms still bound tightly to the wall. He had his head down and his eyes closed, but Dean could scent him from the doorway. He was definitely in rut. His alpha scent was almost overpowering. Dean’s body began singing the word ‘mate’ as he walked over to him.

There was a growl, Castiel lifting his head slowly as Dean approached him. Most likely Castiel could scent the other alphas on him. Dean knelt down beside him, reaching out and capturing Castiel’s chin with his hand so that he could lift his head. He gazed into Castiel’s eyes and was pleased to see that there was almost no blue left in them. Castiel’s nose was twitching as he scented him, and he was pulling forward at his bonds.

“Hey Cas,” Dean purred. “Looking kind of rough there, buddy.”

Castiel growled again, baring his teeth. Dean chuckled.

“You’re not even understanding what I’m saying, are you?” he said. “You’ve gone full alpha.”

Castiel didn’t answer, instead just staring at him with wide eyes.

“Guess it didn’t kill you,” Dean said. He stood and slowly began to remove his clothing. “Didn’t kill me either, but I am in heat. Can you smell it?”

Castiel growled again, pulling harder at his bonds. Dean frowned a little as he saw the faint glow to Castiel’s eyes. He seemed to be trying to use his grace to break free. Dean couldn’t have that, knowing it would burn out Castiel’s grace. He hurried to undress, tossing his clothing against the wall. He reached back and ran a hand through his slick and knelt down again, bringing his hand up to Castiel’s lips. Castiel leaned forward and licked his fingers clean.

“Definitely full alpha,” Dean said. “Nice.”

Letting out a steadying breath Dean reached up and unlocked the straps binding Castiel’s wrists. Castiel pulled free and practically pounced on him, pinning Dean to the ground. Dean laughed as Castiel buried his nose into his scent gland and breathed deep. Without so much as a warning Castiel was pushing Dean’s knees apart and burying his cock inside him.

“Animal,” Dean chuckled as Castiel started pounding into him. “That’s it, Cas. Harder. Make me feel it.”

Castiel pinned Dean by his wrists to the ground, Dean wrapping his legs around Castiel’s waist and trying to take him in deeper. He could feel his body over producing slick as he felt another wave of heat wash over him. He groaned, desperately needing to be knotted. Just having Castiel thrusting into him wasn’t enough. He needed more.

“Come on, come on,” Dean said, rocking his body with Castiel’s. “Knot me, Cas. Mate me!”

He felt Castiel dragging his teeth over his neck and felt a thrill run up his spine. Already he could feel Castiel’s knot beginning to catch at his rim. He knew it wouldn’t be long before he popped his knot. Dean breathed in the alpha scent deeply, feeling another rush of slick wash out of him. He longed to claw at Castiel’s back but he was pinned firmly to the hard ground. Perhaps he should have brought a bed in with him.

“Mate me, Cas!” Dean said. “Come on Alpha. Bite me! Make me yours!”

Castiel growled again, his eyes shining ever so slightly. Then he slammed up hard one last time, his knot catching inside of Dean. As Dean felt the first spurts of cum inside him he was overwhelmed with a searing pain in his neck as Castiel bit down on his scent gland. Dean laughed, finally ripping one hand free and forcing Castiel’s head to the side so he could return the bite and complete the mating.

He’d done it.

As Castiel slowly kept rocking his body and growling, his teeth still firmly embedded in Dean’s neck. Dean felt the start of the mating beginning to form. He was overwhelmed as the desire hit him, the screaming of the word ‘mate’ in his head. He squeezed his eyes closed and panted, gripping Castiel hard behind the back and holding him close. Now it was just a waiting game as their connection formed. And Dean couldn’t wait.


	9. Chapter 9

19 days. It had been 19 days since Sam had last heard from Castiel. He sighed as he closed his laptop and leaned back in his chair. It was looking more and more like the demons had something to do with his disappearance. Sam had tried calling Crowley but the other had refused to pick up, Sam leaving multiple messages but not hearing back from him. All Sam could do was try and locate Castiel. He had put out feelers to see if anyone had seen or heard anything but no one had.

Dean, on the other hand, Sam had gotten some word on. Apparently he had been seen in the vicinity of an alpha vampire nest shortly before they had all been slaughtered. Sam had gone to check it out and people had confirmed that they had seen his brother, and one person had mentioned the presence of the First Blade. That meant Dean was killing. Sam wasn’t sure what to think about that. If anything it worried him.

He blinked as his phone began to ring, Sam looking down at it and not recognising the number. It was his main phone so he could be a hunter with news. He took the call. “Hello?”

“Sam Winchester?”

Sam frowned, trying to place the voice. “Yes. Who’s this?”

“This is Hannah, Castiel’s friend.”

The angel. Sam swallowed. “Hello Hannah.”

“Sam, we’re concerned about Castiel,” Hannah said. “We have not seen or heard from him in some time.”

“Yeah, I know,” Sam said. “Cas is missing.”

There was a moment’s silence. “How long?”

“19 days,” Sam answered. “He was ambushed by demons. That’s all I know.”

“He’s not dead. We would have sensed it.” Hannah said.

Sam let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. That was good news. “I’ve been trying to track him but I’ve only been coming up with dead ends.”

“He tried to contact us recently,” Hannah said. “We felt his presence calling to us but couldn’t make it out. The only word we could understand was your name.”

“He tried to call for help?” Sam asked.

“He felt distressed,” Hannah confirmed. “We couldn’t sense where he was. He was very distant.”

“Could he be in Hell?”

“That would explain the distance,” she said. “Do you believe he’s there?”

“I don’t know,” Sam admitted. “Like I said – he was ambushed by demons. Maybe they took him.”

“Have you tried contacting the King of Hell?”

“Yeah. Multiple times,” Sam said. “He’s not answering.”

“Have you tried summoning him?”

Sam frowned. “No, I haven’t.”

“Perhaps you should try,” she said.

“It’s worth a shot,” Sam said. He looked around the bunker. “Not here though. Somewhere a bit more remote.”

“Perhaps I can help you,” she offered. “We could speak to him together.”

“That would be great,” Sam said. “Are you still looking for Castiel’s grace?”

“We are,” Hannah said. “We had a setback though. One of our brethren was killed.”

Sam frowned. “What happened?”

“We believe it was your brother.”

“Dean?” Sam straightened. “Dean killed an angel?”

“We believe he removed his grace before he did.”

“Why would Dean…” The pieced began to fall to place within Sam’s mind, a rock forming in the pit of his stomach. “Oh no.”

“What is it?’ Hannah asked.

“We need to talk to Crowley,” Sam said. “I’ll text you some coordinates. I’ll meet you there in a few hours.”

“I will try and be there,” Hannah said.

“Thanks,” Sam said.

“Goodbye Sam.”

Sam hung up the phone, letting it drop from his hands. He noticed they were shaking and clenched them into fists. He squeezed his eyes closed as he tried to keep his breathing even. Was Dean a demon? Was that possible? Had he taken Castiel and was killing angels to keep him alive? There was only one way to find out.

Swinging out of his chair Sam headed deeper into the bunker to begin gathering his things. Crowley was going to have a lot of questions to answer.

\-----O-----

Dean lay sprawled out on the floor, his limbs feeling like jelly. He was completely and utterly fucked out even though his heat wasn’t quite sated yet. He had lost count how many days he had been down with Castiel now. The angel was an animal, barely letting Dean out of his reach and thrusting into him every chance that he got.

It concerned Dean a little that Castiel’s grace seemed to be burning brightly during their copulations. He could see the glow in Castiel’s eyes, and could feel it simmering just below his skin. It worried him that Castiel might be burning through it a little too fast for his liking. That just meant that when this was over Dean would have to hunt down another angel and steal their grace. Shouldn’t be too hard.

His body rocked as Castiel thrust into him, the angel’s teeth scrapping over the mating bite. Dean smiled, running his hands over Castiel’s chest and around behind his back, scratching at the skin. Castiel growled at the move and thrust in just a little bit harder. Dean was actually starting to feel a little bit sore in all the right places from their multiple matings.

Their connection still felt chaotic. Dean put it down to the fact Castiel was still lost in an induced rut. All he could sense from the angel was desire and the need to mate, to breed. He wondered just how long the spell would last for. Not that he was complaining – this was some of the best sex he had ever had. He hadn’t known that Castiel had it in him. Maybe he should convince Crowley to induce the rut again once it was over so that he could get more of it.

He could feel Castiel’s knot beginning to catch again, Dean smiling. He’d discovered that he loved being knotted to Castiel. When they were knotted Castiel clung to him possessively, mouthing soft kisses over his mating mark. They would remain locked together for what Dean assumed was about an hour before he could pull free.

When he was free Castiel didn’t let him move far away, hovering around him on guard for any other alphas. His eyes would be fixated on the door as if he expected someone to come in and challenge him. Dean knew that no one was coming so he would drape himself over Castiel, pressing soft kisses over him. He had managed to convince Castiel to kiss him back a few times, the angel practically devouring him.

Dean grunted as Castiel slammed home one last time, his knot catching. Dean felt him coming deep inside him and lay back, enjoying the feeling. His eyes snapped open as pain flared through their connection, Castiel crying out. Castiel doubled over, unable to pull away due to the knot. Dean grabbed him by the shoulders.

“Cas. Cas!”

Castiel’s eyes blinked open, Dean feeling his heart sink as with each blink more blue began to appear. Castiel was coming out of his rut. Castiel looked around, eyes wide. Dean watched as he began to panic, taking in their situation.

“Cas!” Dean said again. “Look at me.”

“What have you done,” Castiel breathed, staring down at him. “Dean. What have you done?”

Dean frowned. “We mated. That’s all.”

“No,” Castiel said, shaking his head. “A Nephilim has come into being.”

“A Nephilim?” Dean asked. “Cas, did you just knock me up?”

Castiel stared down at him, his eyes drifting down to Dean’s abdomen. He reached out with one hand and pressed it against Dean’s stomach. After a moment his eyes widened more than Dean thought possible. “Dean…”

“You _did_ knock me up,” Dean said. “First heat too. Impressive.”

“You cannot keep it,” Castiel said. “Dean, you must destroy it. I think there are pills you can take or something.”

“Wait, what?” Dean frowned, staring up at him. “We just created life and you want to destroy it? What kind of father are you?”

“Dean,” Castiel said again, seriousness in his voice. “A Nephilim cannot exist.”

“Says who?” Dean asked. “Maybe I want it.”

“No you don’t,” Castiel said. “Dean, when a Nephilim is born it kills the host.”

“Good thing I’m already dead,” Dean said.

“You don’t understand,” Castiel said. “It will destroy you.”

Dean could feel Castiel’s panic through their connection, Dean himself feeling a wave of protectiveness over the thing that had just sparked to life inside of him. He set his jaw. “Has there ever been a Nephilim born from a demon?”

Castiel shook his head.

“Then I guess I’ll be the first one,” Dean said with a smile.

“Dean,” Castiel said in a measured tone. “You cannot have this child.”

“So sue me,” Dean said. “You’re my prisoner, Cas, in case you forget. Nothing you can do about it.”

Castiel stared down at him, Dean seeing resolve on his face. He reached a hand toward Dean’s stomach. Realising what Castiel was about to do Dean grabbed his hand and tore it away. He flipped them over, rolling Castiel onto his back so that he was straddling him with Castiel still locked inside him. Dean pinned Castiel’s hands to the floor, Castiel trying to fight him. Castiel’s eyes glowed as he tried to summon up his grace.

“Stop burning yourself out!” Dean ordered.

“It must be destroyed,” Castiel repeated.

“No!” Dean said. “The only person who decides what happens to it is me.”

Castiel stared up at him, his jaw setting. “You want to keep it.”

He had no doubt sensed it over their bond. Dean could feel Castiel’s anger alongside his panic now. Dean didn’t answer him, instead keeping Castiel pinned to the floor. He would hold him for the entire hour if he had too. He could still feel Castiel coming inside him, flooding him with cum. Dean knew his heat would end now that it had been sated.

“Was this your intention?” Castiel asked, anger in his voice.

“No,” Dean said. “I just wanted you to mate me.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re truemates,” Dean said. “And it was the only way.”

“I told you angels do not mate,” Castiel growled.

“Tough shit; you’re mated,” Dean told him. “Or did you miss the bites? You were very eager.”

“It was non-consensual,” Castiel said.

“So you’re saying I raped you.”

“Yes.”

“View it any way you want, Cas, it doesn’t change the fact it happened,” Dean said. “So live with it.”

“Perhaps I won’t have too,” Castiel said, eyes glowing again as he tried to force Dean off him.

“I said stop burning yourself out!” Dean punched him, snapping his head around. “Keep doing that and I will have to kill another one of your brothers and sisters. Do you want that? Because I’ll happily do it.”

Castiel glared up at him.

“Good,” Dean said, feeling Castiel trying to calm himself. “Now just lay there until your knot goes down.”

“And then what?” Castiel asked. “You’ll chain me to the wall again?”

“Yeap,” Dean said. “And that’s where you’re staying.”

“You can’t keep me chained up down here forever, Dean.”

“As a matter of fact yes I can,” Dean said. “Because we’re both eternal beings now. We don’t die. So our mating really _is_ forever.”

“I’m sure Crowley will love that.”

“Crowley wanted you dead on day one.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because,” Dean said. “Just because.”

“Because we’re truemates,” Castiel guessed. “That’s not very demon of you.”

“Shut the fuck up, Cas,” Dean said.

He glared down at him, sensing Castiel seem to decide to settle. Now that the rut had faded Dean was able to more clearly sense Castiel through their bond. He was disturbed by the amount of calm that he found. Castiel seemed to be suppressing his emotions, no doubt to prevent Dean from knowing what he was feeling.

Dean settled back, staring down and meeting Castiel’s glare with his own. He could feel Castiel willing him to try something. He knew he couldn’t let his guard down or Castiel would once again try to destroy the spark inside him. So Dean settled back and got himself ready to wait it out.


	10. Chapter 10

It was dark by the time that Sam arrived at the empty warehouse. He spotted the other car already there and knew that Hannah was waiting for him. Sure enough he saw her climbing out of the car as he pulled in. Sam gently caressed the Impala’s steering wheel before he turned off the engine and climbed out, heading straight to the rear of the car and opening the trunk. He pulled out the bag from inside as Hannah walked over to him.

“Sam,” she greeted.

“Hannah,” he said. “Been a while.”

“It has,” she said. She looked down at the bag with a question in her eyes.

“What we need for a summoning.” He explained. He took in her posture and frowned. “Something wrong?”

“Maybe,” she said as they began to walk toward the warehouse. “Earlier we were struck by a powerful force.”

“What kind of force?”

“A Nephilim,” Hannah said.

“A Nephilim?” Sam ran through his mind what he knew of them. “They’re the offspring of humans and angels, right?”

She nodded. “A new one has been created.”

“That’s not good.”

“No, it is not.” She said. “We need to find it and destroy it.”

“Wow.” Sam raised his eyebrows. “It’s literally only just been conceived and you want to destroy it?”

“It cannot be allowed to be born,” Hannah said. “It is an abomination.”

“Right.” Sam shifted the bag on his shoulders as they entered the warehouse. “Any idea who it was?”

“No,” Hannah said. “We cannot track it.”

“So it could be anyone,” Sam said. “Any angel.”

“Nearly all of our angels are accounted for,” Hannah said. “We have had trouble contacting a few who refuse to return to Heaven. It is most likely one of them.”

“Well if you ever need help finding them let me know,” Sam said as they walked into the open space. “Although it is kind of dark that you want to kill something simply because it exists.”

She gazed at him. “Isn’t that what you do?”

He took the point. He stopped in the middle of the warehouse and dropped his bag. He pulled out the supplies and began to paint a demon summoning circle onto the floor. Hannah stood back and watched him as he prepared the spell, not offering to help him. Sam hadn’t expected her to though. He finished the preparations, looking up at her.

“Are you ready?”

She nodded. “I’m ready.”

Sam lit the match and dropped it into the bowl, reciting the incarnation. They waited for a moment, Sam gazing around and waiting for something, anything, to happen. He could feel his questions bubbling up within his mind as his heart raced. He set his jaw, ready to call defeat.

“Well if it isn’t the Moose.”

Sam whipped around, spotting Crowley standing not too far away. “Crowley!”

“You rang?”

“Where the hell have you been?” Sam demanded, rounding on him. “I’ve been trying to call you.”

“Busy,” Crowley said. “Hell to run and all that.” He looked to the side and spotted Hannah. “I see you brought a friend.”

“Where is Castiel?” Hannah demanded.

“Straight to business. I like that.” Crowley shrugged. “Why would I know where Castiel is?”

“Because demons took him,” Sam said flatly. “And you’re the King of Hell.”

“You got me,” Crowley said. “He’s safe.”

“So you do have him,” Hannah said.

“He’s where he cannot harm anyone,” Crowley said. “I guess you could say I’m doing you a favour.”

“Is sending Dean to kill angels a favour?” Sam asked.

Crowley looked at him. “Yes, your brother. I heard he died. My condolences.”

“Is Dean a demon?” Sam asked point blank.

Hannah shot him a sharp look.

“And what makes you think that?” Crowley asked.

“He died,” Sam said. “And now he’s killing angels with the First Blade. And entire vampire nests.” He squared himself off. “Did you or did you not turn him into a demon?”

“I didn’t turn him into anything,” Crowley said.

“He’s lying,” Hannah said.

“Why would I lie?” Crowley asked. “What Squirrel does isn’t my business unless he makes it my business.”

“And did he?” Sam asked. “Did he make it your business?”

“Certainly you’ve got better things to do with your time,” Crowley said.

“Answer the question,” Sam said. “Is Dean a demon?”

“Technically no,” Crowley said.

“Then what is he? Technically?” Sam asked.

“A Knight of Hell,” Crowley answered.

“You mean like Abaddon?” Sam said.

Crowley nodded.

“So he _is_ a demon?” Sam said, feeling himself feel sick.

“Like I said – technically no.” Crowley eyed Sam. “Be thankful he wants you alive. I’d have had you killed ages ago.”

“So you’re taking orders from him?” Hannah said.

“I take orders from no one,” Crowley said, offended. “Especially not Dean Winchester.”

Sam glared at him, his mind racing as he tried to process what he was hearing. “How did you do this to him?”

“I didn’t do a thing,” Crowley said. “Did it all himself.”

“Was it the Mark?” Sam asked.

“You are the smart one, aren’t you,” Crowley said. “Shame your brother didn’t pick up as much in the brains department.”

“Dean’s smart,” Sam countered. “Why? What’s he doing?”

“That’s none of your business,” Crowley said. “Anyway, you should be thanking me.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m the one keeping your brother in line,” Crowley said. “I’m the one keeping him from going rogue and killing everything on this god forsaken planet.”

“So you’re saying Dean is dangerous,” Hannah said.

“Killed one of yours, didn’t he?” Crowley said.

She narrowed her eyes. “So Dean Winchester was responsible for the death of Isiah.”

“Was that his name?” Crowley shrugged. “Dean used him to keep Feathers alive, so I guess you should be thanking him for that as well.” He paused. “Mind you if we had Castiel’s actual grace then angels wouldn’t have to die.”

Hannah paused. “You’re looking for Castiel’s grace?”

“I’m not,” Crowley said.

“Dean is.” Sam answered. “Dean’s trying to find his grace to keep him alive.”

“Personally I think he should just let Feathers die,” Crowley said. “But he wants his grace which means technically we should be working together.”

Hannah glared at him. “You want angels to work with demons?”

“For a mutual cause,” Crowley said. “Get Castiel his grace back and everybody’s happy. Except me, mind you. I’m happy the feather duster hasn’t got his grace.”

“Because he’s less of a threat,” Sam guessed.

“Exactly,” Crowley said.

“Is this why you’re telling us everything?” Sam asked. “Because you want us to work with you?”

“If the ends justify the means,” Crowley said. “We’ve reached a dead end in getting the grace. We need Metatron.”

“Metatron is not leaving Heaven,” Hannah said.

“So I’ve heard,” Crowley said. “Meanwhile I happen to have one of the best torturers working for me right now.”

“Dean,” Sam said.

Crowley looked at him. “If anyone could get the location of the grace out of him it’s Dean.”

“A demon cannot enter Heaven,” Hannah said.

“Then I guess we’re at an impasse,” Crowley said.

“We’re going to have to work something out,” Sam said. “There’s got to be some way to get the grace. Just like there’s a way to cure Dean.”

You can forget about that,” Crowley said. “Dean doesn’t want to be cured.”

“But he’s a demon,” Sam said. “He would have never allowed himself to become a demon.”

“But now he’s had a taste of the power he doesn’t want to give it up,” Crowley said. “You know what they say about power.”

“It corrupts,” Hannah said.

“Nevertheless I will cure him,” Sam said. “We’ll find Cas’ grace and then we’ll cure Dean.”

“We are not working with demons,” Hannah said.

“Work through me,” Sam said. “I’ll act as a middle man.”

“It makes things slower but it could work,” Crowley said. He looked at Hannah. “Trust me, I don’t like the idea of working with angels but we have a common cause. And besides, you’d rather work with me than with Dean.”

“Why’s that?” she asked

“He can be impulsive,” Crowley said. “Slit your throat if the bloodlust gets too much.”

“The First Blade,” Sam said. “With the Mark it’s corrupting him.”

“Very useful though,” Crowley admitted. “He’s taken care of quite a few problems for me.”

“Like an entire vampire nest?”

“As a start,” Crowley said. “He did such a good job of it too.”

“I’ll do it,” Sam said, nodding. “I’ll help find Castiel’s grace. Just promise me nothing will happen to him.”

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep,” Crowley said. “Castiel is Dean’s responsibility. He decides if anything happens to him.”

“I don’t like this,” Hannah said. “But I agree. We will help locate Castiel’s grace.”

“Good,” Crowley said. “I’ll get back to you when I have more information cause I’m guessing right now we’re all on the same page. Bupkiss.”

Hannah and Sam nodded.

“Think about Metatron,” Crowley said. “He’s the key to finding that grace. Just let Dean in the room with him for five minutes and I’m sure he’ll get it.”

“We will think about it,” Hannah said.

“Do that.” Crowley looked at Sam. “Moose.”

And with that he was gone.

\-----O-----

Crowley walked back into Hell still unsure if he’d done the right thing in letting the angels know about Dean. He really could have just ignored Sam’s summons but as he had said – it was a means to an end. He knew Sam would probably now be dead set on capturing and curing Dean. Hopefully this whole thing looking for Castiel’s grace would distract them from that.

The guards straightened as he moved passed them into the throne room. He narrowed his eyes as he spotted Dean sprawled out in the throne. Dean was lying across it with his feet hanging over one arm, his phone in his hands as he seemed to be either playing a game or scrolling through something on the screen.

“You’ve come up for air then,” Crowley commented as he walked toward him.

Dean grunted in answer.

“Did you get what you want?”

Dean pulled at his collar and revealed the mating mark.

“So you did,” Crowley said. He studied Dean’s posture and the scowl on his face. “You don’t seem very happy about it.”

“I’m ecstatic,” Dean said dryly.

“I can see that.” Crowley moved over to his drinks stand. “Drink to celebrate?”

“I’ll pass.”

“Right.” Crowley studied him as he poured himself a drink. “Is the bond working?”

“I can sense him,” Dean said. “He’s pissed. And worried.”

“I see.” Crowley sipped from his drink. “Given how badly you were wanting to be mated I thought you would be happier.”

“Who says I’m not happy,” Dean said. “I got what I wanted.”

“But it’s not all it’s cracked up to be, is it,” Crowley said. “I think you watched too many romance movies. They paint things to be more… glamorous than they are.”

Dean’s scowl deepened. He sat up, sliding his phone into his pocket and looking across at Crowley. “You got anyone that needs killing, because I really need to kill something right now.”

“There’s a few people,” Crowley said. He narrowed his eyes. “Just so you know I just came back from a meeting with Sam.”

Dean looked up sharply. “Why?”

“He summoned me,” Crowley said. “He had an angel with him. Hannah I believe her name is.”

“Cas’ friend,” Dean said. “They were looking for Cas.”

Crowley nodded.

“What’d you tell them?”

“Everything,” Crowley answered.

Dean’s expression darkened. “What happened to it being a big secret?”

“To get what we want sometimes we have to compromise,” Crowley said. “They can get you access to Metatron. Metatron will lead you to Castiel’s grace. Everybody wins.”

“So they know we’ve got Cas,” Dean said. “You realise they’re going to try and get him back, right?”

“I don’t see how,” Crowley said. “In case you’ve forgotten the angels had their wings clipped. They can’t get into Hell. Neither can your brother.”

“That won’t stop them from trying,” Dean said. “Sammy’s going to be coming after me. He’s going to want to ‘cure’ me.”

“So he mentioned,” Crowley said. “I made it clear that Castiel’s grace was more important and that you were happy as a Knight of Hell.”

Dean pointed to his neck. “Does he know I was trying for this?”

“No,” Crowley said. “We only discussed the important matters. Well, the one that’s important to you.”

Dean snorted. “You still want me to kill Cas.”

Crowley levelled a look on him. “I want you to kill many people. Castiel happens to be on my list.”

“Not happening,” Dean said. “Anyway, if he does escape now I can track him.”

“At the same time he can track you,” Crowley reminded him. “He can also sense what you’re feeling. Perhaps even what you’re doing. You turned a simple liability into a fucking train wreck.”

“Fuck you, Crowley,” Dean said. “Cas is my responsibility and I’ll take care of him.”

“Then slit his throat,” Crowley said. “It will save all of us a lot of time and headaches.”

“If any harm comes to Cas it’s going to be on you,” Dean said, stalking toward Crowley menacingly with one hand resting on the First Blade. “Don’t think I won’t kill you.”

“You won’t,” Crowley said. “You need me.”

“Just remember I don’t take orders from anybody, including you,” Dean said. “Now, who do you want me to kill? Because I’m jonesing to spill some blood right now and you’re looking really tempting.”

Crowley stared him down without flinching. He set his jaw. “There’s a pack of werewolves that have been attacking my people and screwing with my business on purpose because I refused to cut a deal with them. Teach them a lesson.”

“You want them all dead or just one or two?”

“Wipe them all out,” Crowley said. “I don’t care if you turn their pelts into a coat. I just want them dead.”

“Tell me where,” Dean said.

Crowley pulled a notepad out of his pocket and wrote down an address. “This is where my people are based. They can tell you where to find the werewolves. Just one thing,” he said before he gave Dean the note. “I don’t want any of my people harmed. They are all needed for an important operation. You harm them and I will beat you senseless.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Dean said, taking the note. He walked toward the door. “I’ll see you in a week.”

“Don’t rush back,” Crowley said.

He waited until Dean was gone before moving to sit on his throne with a heavy sigh. He could almost sense Dean becoming more dangerous with every passing day. He was getting stronger and more adept with his new skills as a demon, and with the Mark fuelling him it wouldn’t be long before he would be in a position to challenge Crowley for the title as King.

Crowley sipped from his drink and considered his options. All he could really do is keep Dean focussed on finding Castiel’s grace. As much as Crowley hated the idea it would keep Dean distracted. That and sending him on more hunting missions. There was only a finite supply of targets, however, and it would only be a matter of time before Crowley ran out.

What a mess.


	11. Chapter 11

Sam waited in the park beside the sand pit, sitting on the swing set that was way too small for him. His hips were jammed into the space between the ropes almost painfully. He kept his eye on the sand pit, waiting for Hannah to return. She had gone back to Heaven after their meeting with Crowley and after a few days had called Sam to meet her there. She had briefly met him and told him to wait, but that had been hours ago.

He glanced up as he saw a light begin to emit from the sand pit, Sam standing up and walking toward it. The sand swirled around for a moment before a figure appeared in the light, Sam squinting to see who it was. As the light dimmed he spotted Hannah, two other angels flanking her. Sam moved closer as she looked up at him.

“I’m sorry it took so long,” she apologised as she crossed over to him. “There was a meeting called.”

“About Cas?” Sam asked.

“Yes,” Hannah said. “And about your brother.”

Sam felt his stomach twist. He still hadn’t fully come to terms with the fact that Dean was a demon. He almost needed to see it for himself before he would believe it. He didn’t entirely trust Crowley, but still this wasn’t something that Crowley would lie about. The Dean he knew would never have allied himself with Crowley though which means that Dean must be using him for something.

“What was it about?” Sam asked.

“We’ve come to the decision that we cannot let Metatron out of Heaven,” Hannah said.

Sam nodded. “It’s too dangerous.”

She nodded. “And while we will continue to search for Castiel’s grace we are not prepared to hand it over to demons.”

“I get that,” Sam said. “I wouldn’t either.”

“Which leaves your brother,” Hannah said. “He is dangerous.”

“Yes he is,” Sam said.

Hannah glanced back at the other two angels who nodded to her. She nodded back and turned to Sam. “We’ve decided that he must be eliminated.”

Sam felt the pit fall out of his stomach. “He can be cured.”

“It is a risk,” Hannah said. “One we are not prepared to take.”

“So you’re going back on Crowley’s deal,” Sam said. “You said you’d help him.”

“We will pretend to help him,” Hannah said. “But we have no intention of actually helping him. Angels do not work with demons.”

“Okay,” Sam said, licking his lips and trying to catch up with everything in his mind. “So what do you need me for?”

“To be our go between,” Hannah said. “Our means of correspondence with the King of Hell.”

“So you want me to lie to Crowley,” Sam guessed.

She nodded. “You’ve done it before.”

“Yeah, but Dean will see right through it,” Sam said. “And Crowley usually sees through it too. If they realise we’re lying they’ll be pissed and we might never get Cas and Dean back.”

“What has happened to Castiel is regrettable,” Hannah said. “Unfortunately sacrifices must be made.”

“Wait, you’re leaving him to die?” Sam asked, an alarm bell sounding in his mind.

“Sam, we have bigger things to worry about,” Hannah said. “A Nephilim has been created. We must find it and destroy it before it can be born.”

“But that’s months from now,” Sam said. “Nearly a year away. Can’t you rescue Cas in the meantime?”

“We must move quickly,” Hannah said. “While it is not a threat now as the Nephilim grows it will gain strength. Even in the womb it will be dangerous. It is essential that we find it as soon as possible.”

“So I’m on my own,” Sam said. “I’ve got to rescue Dean and Cas on my own.”

“Your brother does not want rescuing,” Hannah reminded him. “And it will only be a matter of time before Castiel’s grace burns out and he dies with it.”

“Dean’s just going to keep killing angels to charge him up,” Sam reminded her.

“Which is why we must eliminate him,” Hannah said. “We’ve already began tracking him. It will only be a matter of time before we find him.”

“You’re doing a suicide mission,” Sam said. “Please. Help me. Capture him and I can cure him.”

“I’m sorry, Sam,” Hannah said. “It’s already been decided.”

Sam felt sick. He knew it was going to be important for him to find Dean first and he didn’t even have the slightest of leads on him. Dean had made it clear that he didn’t want Sam to track him. Sam needed to find some way of letting Dean know that the angels were coming after him. Setting his jaw he knew he was going to have some decisions to make.

“Okay. I get it,” Sam said coldly. “You don’t care about your brother. You’re just going to leave him to die. Well I can’t do that. I’m going to save them. I’m going to save them both.”

“We wish you luck in your endeavours,” Hannah said. “But understand that if we find Dean first we will kill him.”

“I understand,” Sam said. “You’re the ones that are going to end up dead though.”

“We will see.” Hannah stepped back into the sand pit with the two other angels. She raised her hand in farewell.

Sam shielded his eyes as the light shone from the sand pit. When it faded he found himself once more alone in the playground. He swore under his breath, his mind racing as he tried to figure out what to do next. One thing was certain – he needed to find Dean, and he needed to find him yesterday.


	12. Chapter 12

It took Dean almost two weeks to hunt down the last of the werewolves. The pack had spread themselves out across a state, burying themselves deeply into Crowley’s business and sabotaging it at every step of the way. The demons had pointed him in the right direction and Dean had begun his hunt. He had wiped out entire families, leaving none alive.

Crowley had insisted that Dean keep him updated as he went. Dean felt like a teenager who had to keep checking in with his parent. He hated it. He knew that Crowley was probably just worried about his business though. It seemed to be an operation that made the King a lot of money and earned them a lot of deals. It made Dean wonder how many other ventures that Crowley had his claws in.

He found himself sitting in a hotel room wiping clean the First Blade. The only downside to the weapon is how bloody it tended to get and how hard it was to actually clean. Blood got caught between the teeth of the jawbone and Dean had found that using cotton buds dipped in alcohol seemed to get most of it out. He could just leave it dirty but he liked keeping his weapons clean.

Every so often he glanced over at a little stick sitting on the table. He had finally convinced himself to buy a pregnancy test. It had been two weeks and he hadn’t noticed any changes so he was starting to wonder if Castiel had lied to him. Castiel wasn’t one to lie about things like that though, so Dean had bought the test. He felt stupid peeing on the little stick, but now he had to wait for it to tell him.

His phone beeped that the time was up, Dean reaching out and picking up the stick on the table. He closed his eyes, willing it to be negative. The last thing he needed right now was to be pregnant. It would inconvenience things that was for sure. At the same time he couldn’t help but wonder what a child of an angel and demon would be like. Opening his eyes he looked down.

Positive.

“Shit.”

Dean dropped the stick and rested his head in his hand. He really should have thought the whole mating thing through. He had been so preoccupied with mating Castiel he hadn’t even thought to worry about getting pregnant. In fact he hadn’t even realised that demons _could_ get pregnant. Then again Dean wasn’t a true demon; he was a Knight of Hell. Things must work differently for him.

He absently pressed a hand against his abdomen. Crowley had warned him. The King was going to be pissed when he found out. Dean knew that Castiel was already mad. He could still sense it through their bond. The most common emotion he could feel though was worry.

He wondered if what Castiel had told him was correct. That a Nephilim destroyed the host when it was born. He bit his lip. That might be true of humans, but Dean wasn’t human. He was one of the most powerful beings on Earth now. It was entirely possible that he would survive.

A flare of overprotectiveness flashed through Dean as he contemplated taking Castiel’s advice and terminating the pregnancy. This was his child he was thinking about. His and Castiel’s. He couldn’t bear to think of destroying it. He wanted to nurture it, protect it. He knew that his decision was already made and had been made the day Castiel had told him they had conceived.

Dean was keeping it.

Leaning back in his chair Dean stretched his legs out. Things were going to get a lot more complicated from here on out. The Mark on his arm burned causing him to scratch it. He could still feel the bloodlust even though he had killed so many over the last two weeks. He wondered what the Mark would do to the unborn child. He wondered if the Mark had had a role in him being able to conceive in the first place.

A Nephilim. Dean knew that Castiel had killed the last one when Metatron had tricked him into expelling the angels from Heaven. He knew they were powerful, and that Heaven would probably do everything in their power to try and destroy it before it was born. Dean frowned. It was entirely possible that Hell would also try to destroy it.

Dean knew he had just painted a big, massive target on his back. He was going to have to do everything he could to protect this child. He wondered if he should tell Crowley or not. No doubt Crowley would insist, like Castiel did, that he destroy it. Then again Crowley would probably see a possible way of trying to use it for Hell’s bidding.

Dean knew he was going to have to make some decisions soon. He could almost hear the clock ticking now. His most important mission was going to be finding Castiel’s grace. The sooner he could find that the sooner he could take Castiel and ditch Hell altogether. Until then he needed Crowley and the protection that Hell offered.

The other demons were causing issues though. They didn’t like how close Dean was to Crowley. The alphas in particular had tried several times to put Dean ‘in his place’, leaving Dean no alternative but to kill them. Crowley had reprimanded him on more than one occasion for killing important demons. On a plus side slaughtering a few of them had caused the others to back off.

He knew that his being an omega played a huge role in setting the alphas against him. Most alphas had a natural tendency to look down on omegas. When Dean had hit puberty John had taken Dean aside and explained how things worked, and then had started to train Dean in how to successfully beat an alpha down if one came onto him without invitation. Dean still used that training to this day.

That was why, even though he was an omega, no one realised he was. That and the suppressants he had been taking since his first heat. Most omegas took them these days and the suppressants made them register as betas to everyone who didn’t know better. The only time an omega went off their suppressants was when they wanted an alpha or intended to breed.

That was why Dean had gone off his own suppressants. He had been keen on mating Castiel and had hoped that being able to scent that Dean was an omega would wake up that part of Castiel and make him realise they were truemates. Dean had known they were for some time now but had been denying it to himself. Now he was a demon he had decided to just take what was his.

Going off his suppressants was why he was in this mess right now. He rubbed his abdomen and absently wondered what Castiel could sense. When Dean looked himself all he could see was the darkness of his soul. He wondered if maybe there was a spark of Castiel’s grace deep inside him. Then again it wasn’t exactly Castiel’s own grace, but that of another angel. He frowned. Did that make this Castiel’s child or another angel’s? He didn’t know how it worked.

He picked up the First Blade again and turned it over in his hands, inspecting it. He smiled as he saw that he had managed to clean all the blood off it. It was definitely the ugliest blade he had ever used, and also the most crude. But it did its job effectively and that’s what mattered in the end.

Standing up Dean picked up the pregnancy test and threw it in the bin. After a moment he frowned, pulling it out again. He crushed it in his hands, effectively destroying it before throwing the pieces back into the bin. That way no one would find it and see what the results were. He needed to be careful after all.

Dean slipped the First Blade back onto his belt and stood, grabbing his bag. It was time to go back to Hell.

\-----O-----

“And he returns,” Crowley said as Dean strolled into the throne room. He looked him over, noting that Dean looked as sour as he had been when he had left. “Didn’t kill enough?”

“I killed every single werewolf,” Dean told him. “They won’t be bothering your operation again.”

“So I heard,” Crowley said. “You even managed to spare my demons. Good work.”

Dean crossed to his seat and dropped into it, glancing around the demons scattered around the room in small groups talking. “What is this? Group project time?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Crowley said. “I’ve just allocated them their tasks and their brainstorming how to complete them.”

“Sounds boring,” Dean said.

“To the unintelligent maybe,” Crowley said. He picked up his bottle of wine and offered it to Dean. “A celebratory drink?”

“Pass,” Dean said. “Not a wine fan.”

“I’ve got some whiskey if you prefer,” Crowley said.

“No thanks,” Dean said.

Crowley narrowed his eyes and stared at him. “Since when does Dean Winchester refuse a drink?”

Dean didn’t answer.

“That’s the second time you’re refused alcohol,” Crowley said. “The first being after you successfully mated the angel. Either you think I’m going to poison you or…”

Crowley straightened, staring hard at Dean. The other demon didn’t respond, instead staring out into the room without really looking at anything. Crowley felt a ball of rage burning up inside him, and sitting up he looked out over the groups of demons.

“Everybody get out!” he commanded. “Now!”

The other demons stared at him a moment before they started to move. Dean made to get up from his chair but Crowley halted him with a gesture.

“Not you!”

Dean sank back into his seat, gripping the arms of the chair tightly. Crowley waited until the last of the demons had left the room and closed the doors behind them before he rounded on Dean. He stared him down.

“Are you pregnant?”

Dean didn’t answer but the look on his face was answer enough. Rage burned inside Crowley as he stared at him.

“Are you fucking insane!?” He said.

“It’s no big deal,” Dean said.

“Of course it’s a fucking big deal!” Crowley said. “I hope you’re not intending on keeping it.”

Dean averted his eyes.

Crowley groaned, rubbing a hand over his eyes. This was too much.

“I’m assuming its Castiel’s,” Crowley said.

“Yeah,” Dean said softly.

“Does he know?”

“He knows.”

“Which explains why he’s so pissed off at you,” Crowley said. “Did I or did I not tell you to use protection.”

“Stop talking to me like I’m a child,” Dean said.

“Then stop acting like one!” Crowley growled, slamming a fist down on the arm of the throne. “Do you understand just how complicated you have made things.”

“It’s not that bad,” Dean said. “I’ve got it handled.”

“Bullocks you do,” Crowley said. He drummed his fingers on the throne, trying to work out how to navigate this mess. He shook his head as he tried to get the rage back under control. “Exactly how powerful is this thing going to be?”

Dean looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean is it going to wipe us all out?” Crowley met Dean’s eye. “It’s the offspring of an angel and a demon. It’s bound to be powerful.”

“I don’t know,” Dean said. “It could be normal for all I know.”

“I doubt that.” He gestured around them. “I’m not having a baby running around Hell. Especially not some hybrid that could destroy us all.”

“Trust me, I’ll be out of your hair by then,” Dean said. “You think I’d want to raise a kid in Hell?”

“Well you’re not exactly going to be welcome in Heaven,” Crowley said. “Which brings us to Heaven. Do you really think they’re going to allow you to have a child?”

“And how would they find out?” Dean asked. “You going to tell them?”

“Of course I’m not going to bloody tell them,” Crowley said. “I wouldn’t tell them if I had a wart on my nose.”

“So it shouldn’t be a problem,” Dean said.

“You’re not seeing the big picture here,” Crowley said. “They’re going to sense it. They may have already sensed it. It’s only going to be a matter of time before they work it out.”

“Trust me, I’m not going to let the angels know,” Dean said. “Once I start showing I’m planning on laying low.”

“And what about the bloodlust?” Crowley asked. “The Mark isn’t just going to be dormant because you’re knocked up. In fact it could make it worse.”

“So I’ll kill a few things,” Dean said. “I’m capable of killing stuff while pregnant.”

“Oh sure. You’ll be nine months, ready to pop, and killing.” Crowley rolled his eyes, running a hand over his face. “This is a logistical nightmare.”

“I told you I’ve got it covered,” Dean said.

“Playing it by ear isn’t having it covered,” Crowley said. “Why is it that you Winchesters always seem to find a way of making bad situations worse.”

Dean glared at him.

Crowley sighed. “Well we’ve got at least three months before you start showing,” he said. “Hopefully in that time we can come up with some sort of plan. Presuming of course that you are intending on keeping it.”

“I am,” Dean said.

“And do you intend to keep Castiel locked up this entire time?”

“No, I’m planning on letting him go,” Dean said sarcastically.

“What are you intending on doing with him once you find his grace?” Crowley asked. “Have you at least thought that through?”

“He’s fine where he is,” Dean said. “You did say that cell could hold him once he’s fully juiced up.”

“So you’re just planning on keeping him down there for eternity?” Crowley asked. “Do you think I _like_ having an angel in my dungeon?”

“Then we’ll find something else,” Dean said. “I don’t know. I could set up something in purgatory if you’re that bothered.”

“Purgatory,” Crowley scoffed. “With a broken angel and a hellspawn child.”

“Why do you have to be so negative?” Dean asked.

“I’m being realistic,” Crowley said. “If it were me I would destroy both of them.”

“Well I’m not you,” Dean said.

“Clearly.” Crowley shook his head. “Fine. We’ll keep going as we’ve been going for now. But in the next few months you’re going to have to make some decisions. You’ve left yourself wide open to being exploited.”

“So you keep telling me,” Dean said. “I know what I’m doing, Crowley, alright.”

“You keep telling yourself that.” He sighed heavily. “Now get out of my sight. I need to think.”

Dean glared at him a moment before slipping out of his chair and heading for the throne room door. Crowley watched him go, studying him to see if there were any outward signs yet that Dean was compromised and seeing none. It would only be a matter of time though before it was clear that Dean was with child. Crowley had never been able to understand the omega mind, and it was clear he never would.

After a while Crowley pushed himself up out of the throne, stretching out his back. It was time he went and talked to the angel.


	13. Chapter 13

Castiel relaxed back against the wall. His body had reached the point where it didn’t ache anymore but was rather just comfortably numb. Dean had manhandled him back into chains before he had last left Castiel, and he had no idea how long it had been. He tried to move around as much as he could to prevent sores from forming on his body but it was hard.

He closed his eyes, trying to sense Dean through their bond. He knew that Dean had been killing. He had been able to sense the adrenaline as Dean had been fighting. He had caught glimpses in his mind of what Dean was doing and he had seen Dean squaring off against werewolves. He had been a long way from where Castiel was but it was still not far enough away that Castile couldn’t sense him.

He could still sense Dean’s anger at him. He had also felt the flare of protectiveness as Dean had come to terms with the fact he had conceived. Castiel knew that Dean was intent on keeping it no matter what Castiel said to him. He wondered if Dean could sense his own worry through their bond. He had tried to send thoughts of his wish for Dean to terminate the pregnancy but he didn’t know how successful he had been.

What worried Castiel the most though is that he knew that the other angels would have sensed the creation of the Nephilim. Right now they would be hunting for it to try and destroy it and the host. It was a death penalty for creating such a thing. That was one of the oldest laws of Heaven. Castiel knew that his own head would be on the chopping block if they ever worked out what had happened.

He wondered if the angels were looking for him at all. He knew it had been long enough now that they would realise he was missing. Sam would also be looking for him. He hoped Sam didn’t come to any grief in his quest to find him. He felt bad for Sam. To lose his brother and then to have Castiel go missing must be hard on him. He hoped that he was all right.

Castiel snapped his eyes open as he heard footsteps approaching. That wasn’t Dean although Castiel could sense that Dean was nearby. He assumed it was another guard walking to corridor but there hadn’t been one for a while now. It was almost like they had all forgotten about him. He guessed that he simply wasn’t a threat as far as they all were concerned.

He pulled his legs in as the footsteps stopped by the door, the locks grinding as they were opened. He raised his head and gazed toward the doorway. Spotting Crowley he set his jaw. What did he want?

“Evening, Cassie,” Crowley said as he walked over to him. “I’d ask how it’s hanging but…”

“Is that an attempt at humour?’ Castiel asked, his own voice sounding foreign to him. It had been a while since he had spoken to anyone.

“I see it’s wasted on you,” Crowley said. He stopped by Castiel and looked down at him. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

“Dean told you,” Castiel guessed.

“More or less.” Crowley narrowed his eyes. “I understand you’re not happy.”

“It’s a Nephilim,” Castiel said. “They cannot exist.”

“A Nephilim,” Crowley repeated. “I thought they only existed between an angel and a human.”

“Dean is still human enough,” Castiel said. “He is not fully demon. Not yet.”

“Well that explains it,” Crowley said. He knelt by Castiel so that he was eye level with him. “I take it you want it destroyed.”

“A Nephilim cannot be allowed to exist,” Castiel said. “Especially not one between an angel and a Knight of Hell.”

“How powerful are we talking?”

“It could destroy worlds,” Castiel said.

“So powerful.” Crowley set his jaw. “Should I be worried?”

“Yes,” Castiel said simply.

“Right.” Crowley eyed him. “You realise Dean is intent on keeping it.”

“He cannot be allowed to,” Castiel said. “It must be destroyed.”

“What a wonderful father you make,” Crowley commented. “I thought you’d be protective of it.”

“Angels cannot have offspring,” Castiel said.

“Is that what they teach you in Bible school,” Crowley said. “You realise Dean might make a wonderful parent.”

Castiel shook his head. “No he won’t.”

Crowley seemed surprised by that. “You have no faith in him?”

“He’ll be dead,” Castiel said.

“How so?”

“When a Nephilim is born it destroys the host,” Castiel explained. “Dean will be destroyed.”

Crowley stared at him for a long while, a frown creeping onto his face. “I imagine that’s just humans.”

“No,” Castiel said. “Even if a Nephilim is born of an angel host the host is still destroyed.”

“So this child is a death sentence for Dean,” Crowley said. “Does he know?”

“I’ve told him,” Castiel said. “I don’t think he fully understands. In part I don’t think he cares.”

“Bullocks.” Crowley ran a hand over his jaw, staring at a spot over Castiel’s shoulder as the wheels turned in his head. “So Dean is carrying a time bomb.”

“In a manner of speaking, yes,” Castiel said.

Crowley looked down at him. “And if the angels find out?”

“They will stop at nothing to destroy Dean,” Castiel said. “They will put all other missions aside until the Nephilim is destroyed.”

“Which might explain why they haven’t gotten back to me,” Crowley growled.

Castiel narrowed his eyes. “You’ve spoken with angels?”

“An angel named Hannah. She’s supposed to be helping find your grace,” Crowley said.

It was Castiel’s turn to frown. He couldn’t imagine the angels ever working with demons. In fact, he couldn’t imagine the demons working with angels. He didn’t see how that could logistically work, and he knew from experience that it didn’t end well. “Do you have any leads?”

“Zero,” Crowley said. “Like I said – we were supposed to hear from the angels. We want them to bring Metatron down so Dean can… persuade him to tell us where it is.”

“You want him to torture him,” Castiel said. “The angels won’t allow Metatron out of Heaven.”

“So they say.” Crowley looked him over. “How long have you been down there anyway?”

“I don’t know,” Castiel said. “There is no way of measuring time.”

“You really should be moving around.” Crowley frowned. “Dean has a thing or two to learn about keeping prisoners.”

“I doubt my wellbeing is foremost on his mind,” Castiel said.

“Is he or is he not trying to find your grace,” Crowley said. “I still think he should kill you.”

“Small mercies,” Castiel said. “Dean would be very upset with you if that happens.”

“Unfortunately,” Crowley said. “I imagine he’d kill me in revenge.”

“Without a doubt.”

Crowley straightened and stood, smoothing down his jacket. “How do you think he would react if I were to poison him and end the pregnancy?”

“From what I have sensed he would be very angry,” Castiel said. “He might well destroy you.”

“So he’s gotten attached already,” Crowley said. “Brilliant.”

“You would have my support if you did,” Castiel said. “But I’d advise against it for your sake.”

“Worried about me, are you?”

“Dean doesn’t trust you,” Castiel said. “Neither do I.”

“Smart move,” Crowley said. “He probably expects me to try and poison him.”

“He does not need to eat or drink,” Castiel said. “Although I imagine he will begin craving to.”

“I doubt he’ll eat anything from Hell,” Crowley said. “Which means he’ll be spending more time upstairs.”

“Which means he’ll be in danger,” Castiel said. “If the angels find him…”

“So best not let the angels find out,” Crowley said. “I imagine they’re hunting him already.”

Castiel frowned. “Why?”

“Because they know what he is,” Crowley said. “Had to let it slip. Moose knows as well.”

“Sam?” Castiel said. “Does he know about me?”

“He’s aware,” Crowley said. “He would also be aware of how pointless it would be to attempt to rescue you.”

“You should not have let the angels know,” Castiel said. “They will see Dean as dangerous and seek to destroy him at all costs.”

“They haven’t come for him yet,” Crowley said.

“Yet,” Castiel repeated. “They will be searching for him.”

“Getting protective of your mate, are you?” Crowley mocked.

Castiel glared at him. “I’m protective of my friend.”

“Friendzoned. Ouch.” Crowley raised a brow. “Considering how long you’ve been in love with him I don’t see why you aren’t happier about the mating.”

“Dean is not himself,” Castiel said. “When he becomes human he will regret it.”

“Human?” Crowley shook his head. “He’s a Knight of Hell. He’s not becoming human.”

“He will,” Castiel said. “Sam-“

“Moose has got no chance,” Crowley said. “He can try but he’s going to fail.” He locked eyes with Castiel. “And let me tell you this. If it should ever happen that Dean becomes human and you’re still down here, I am not going to hesitate to kill you.”

“That is to be expected,” Castiel said. “I would welcome death.”

“Pleased to hear we’re on the same page.”

They looked up as the door to the cell opened, Dean stepping inside. Dean stopped short as he spotted Crowley, a scowl crossing his features. He stalked over to them with one hand resting on the hilt of the First Blade.

“What are you doing in here?” Dean asked.

“Just spending time with my bestie,” Crowley purred.

Castiel frowned but stayed silent.

“Did I give you permission to come in here?” Dean asked.

“My dungeon,” Crowley said. “My cell. You’re the one who should be asking permission.”

Dean’s scowl deepened as he looked down at Castiel. He seemed to be inspecting him for any foul play. Seeing none he looked back up at Crowley. “I think your minions were looking for you. Something about a fire in a warehouse in Brooklyn.”

“Not again,” Crowley moaned, heading for the door. “This is the third time this year.”

Castiel watched him go, Crowley disappearing out the door without another word. Strangely he felt as if his hope left with him. He glanced up as Dean stopped beside him, Dean levelling him with a dark look. Castiel set his jaw and met his gaze.

“What were you talking about?” Dean asked. “And don’t lie to me.”

“My grace,” Castiel said.

Dean studied him, Castiel feeling him probing their bond for any dishonesty. Dean dropped down to sit beside Castiel, leaning against the wall beside him. “What did you tell him?”

“There was not much to tell,” Castiel said. “I can’t sense it. I don’t know where Metatron would have hid it. I know that the angels will not let Metatron out of Heaven.”

“They’re idiots,” Dean said. “I can get the information out of him.”

“The Dean I knew wouldn’t allow himself to torture,” Castiel said. “He hated it.”

“The Dean you knew was made to torture. By you.” Dean reminded him.

“Something I have regretted every day since,” Castiel said.

“Torture can be effective,” Dean said. “And we need to utilise every skill to get what we want.”

“How many people have to die, Dean?” Castiel asked. “I know you’ve been killing.”

Dean scratched the Mark absently. “They were werewolves.”

“Dean, right now the biggest monster around here is you.”

Dean glared at him. “Are you scared of me, Cas?”

“Yes,” Castiel answered truthfully. “But I am also scared for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“When you become human again you will have to live with the consequences of what you’ve done,” Castiel said. “I don’t want it to destroy you.”

“Become human?” Dean narrowed his eyes. “You still think you and Sam are going to ‘rescue’ me?”

“I know we will,” Castiel said. “It will only be a matter of time.”

“News flash, Cas, I don’t need rescuing,” Dean said. “I’m perfectly happy.”

“Are you?” Castiel asked. “Because all I sense from you is anger and hatred.”

“Then clearly you’re not looking hard enough,” Dean said. “Because right now I’m ecstatic.”

Castiel probed their bond but felt nothing like what Dean was claiming. He could feel the anger simmering through it, and the deep darkness that surrounded Dean’s soul. He could also feel hints of self-doubt. He latched onto them.

“You’re still not sure about your place in things,” Castiel said. “You don’t fit in here.”

“I’m not a demon,” Dean admitted. “I’m a Knight of Hell. I’m better than these demons.”

“Then why don’t you leave?”

“And go where?” Dean asked. He pointed up. “Up there I’m going to be hunted. Down here I’m at least safe.”

“Are you?” Castiel asked. “How do the alpha demons like being bossed around by an omega?”

“I’ve slit enough throats to answer that question,” Dean said. “Don’t worry about me – I can handle myself around a few alphas.”

“And eight months from now?” Castiel asked.

Dean narrowed his eyes. “I said I can handle myself.”

“Tell me Dean,” Castiel said. “What type of father do you think Crowley’s going to be for our child?”

Dean paused. “What?”

“You’ll die in childbirth,” Castiel said. “And Crowley will kill me soon after leaving him to raise our child.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Dean said. “Nobody’s dying.”

“Giving birth to this child is a death sentence, Dean,” Castiel said. “Accept that.”

“I’m a Knight of Hell,” Dean repeated.

“And the Nephilim will destroy you regardless,” Castiel said.

Dean stared him down. Castiel could feel the anger flooding through their bond. Dean pushed himself up and walked toward the door without another word. Castiel watched him go, not letting out the breath he hadn’t realised he was holding until the door swung close and the locks slid into place. He closed his eyes, touching the bond between him and Dean and feeling the denial rushing through it.

He settled back against the wall, stretching his legs out in front of him. He didn’t know how long it would be until Dean returned again so all he could do was wait.


	14. Chapter 14

Sam started awake as his phone began to ring. He pushed himself up off the table, blinking the sleep from his eyes. It had been a while since he’d gotten a good night sleep. He’d gotten into the habit of falling asleep while researching – simply collapsing from exhaustion. He rubbed his eyes as he pulled the phone toward him and glanced at the number.

Seeing the familiar ‘666’ he scooped it up, fumbling for the receive button. “Crowley?”

“Moose,” Crowley said. “Haven’t heard from you.”

“I could say the same,” Sam said. “You were supposed to be using me as a middle man.”

“I’ve been expecting the angels to contact you,” Crowley said. “I take it from your silence that they have not.”

“Actually they have,” Sam said. He had been pondering whether or not he should tell Crowley about his meeting with Hannah and had decided that he would the next time Crowley got in contact with him. It had been three weeks now since their meeting in the playground, Sam running through his head exactly what he was going to say.

“Well?” Crowley said at his silence.

“They’re going back on the deal,” Sam said. “They said they can’t work with demons, and even if they did find Cas’ grace they would never give it to you.”

There was a long pause. “I see.”

“Yeah,” Sam said. “They said they’ve got bigger problems.”

“Such as?”

“Apparently a Nephilim exists,” Sam said. “They said they need to destroy it before it is born.”

“Right.” Crowley said. “And that’s more important than Castiel’s grace.”

“Apparently,” Sam said. “Oh yeah, and they want to kill Dean.”

There was another pause. “Did they say why?”

“Because he’s a Knight of Hell,” Sam said. “They said if they find him they will kill him.”

“More likely he will kill them,” Crowley said. “So we’re on our own.”

“Seems that way,” Sam said. “They also refuse to let Metatron out of Heaven.”

“I expected as much,” Crowley said. “Unfortunately he’s the key to finding Castiel’s grace.”

“Not necessarily,” Sam said. “I was thinking – what if Metatron wasn’t the one who hid Cas’ grace? What if it was Gadreel.”

“Go on.”

“I’ve been trying to track his path,” Sam said. “Work out where he went and try and narrow it down.”

“Might I make a suggestion,” Crowley said. “This comes from Feathers actually. Look into libraries.”

Sam frowned. “Libraries?”

“Apparently Metatron has a fondness for them.”

“That would narrow the search a bit,” Sam said. “What are you doing in the meantime?”

“I still have my people out searching,” Crowley said. “It would be much smoother an operation if we had the angels cooperation.”

“Yeah, I know,” Sam said. “They’ve cut me off too.”

“Exactly how long have you known this?”

Sam hesitated. “About three weeks.”

“And you didn’t think to call?” Crowley sounded annoyed and Sam couldn’t blame him.

“I was hoping they would change their mind,” Sam said. “For the record I don’t think this was Hannah’s decision. I think it was a group decision.”

“Angels do tend to be a hive mind,” Crowley said.

“You know you could bring Dean back here,” Sam said. “We could cure him. That would get the angels off his back.”

“I thought I had already made it clear that Dean is quite happy the way he is,” Crowley said.

Sam set his jaw. “I’d like to hear that from him.”

There was a moment’s pause, Sam hearing what sounded like a conversation in the background. He frowned and wondered who Crowley was talking to. There was a fumbling of the phone, Sam ready to ask what was going on.

“Heya Sammy.”

Sam felt his blood run cold at the sound of the voice. “Dean?”

“Been a while,” Dean said. “How you holding up?”

“Dean,” Sam said, gritting his teeth. “Dean, I can help you.”

“The only way you can help me is to help find Cas’ grace,” Dean said. “That should be your top priority.”

“You’re not you, Dean,” Sam said. “This isn’t you.”

“It’s 100% me,” Dean said. “I’ve never felt better.”

“You’d never allow yourself to become a demon,” Sam countered.

“Technically I’m not,” Dean said. “The Mark changed me but it didn’t make me a full demon. I’ve got some pretty sweet tricks I can do now though. Teleporting is awesome.”

“You always hated teleporting,” Sam said.

“When Cas did it, yeah. He kind of yanks you around,” Dean said. “Doing it myself is completely different.”

“And what about Cas?” Sam asked. “What have you done to him?”

“He’s fine,” Dean said. “A bit pissed off but fine.”

“I doubt you’re just letting him just walk Hell freely,” Sam said. “Where is he?”

“He’s just hanging around,” Dean said, Sam almost about to hear his smirk.

“You’ve got him chained up,” Sam guessed. “He’s your prisoner.”

“He’s safe,” Dean said. “I’m keeping him juice up and preventing him from topping himself.”

“Which tells me he’s tried.” Sam said. He felt sick not knowing what the demons were doing to Castiel. He could barely imagine what they were putting him through. “Have you tortured him?”

“Why would I torture him?” Dean asked. “He’s not the one I need info from.”

“What are you doing to him, Dean?” Sam asked. “Just let him go. He can help find his grace.”

“Not gonna happen,” Dean said. “Cas is perfectly fine where he is. Trust me.”

“I don’t trust you,” Sam said. “Not while you’re a demon.”

“Knight of Hell,” Dean corrected.

“Whatever you are,” Sam said. “Just let Cas go.”

“Cas is going nowhere,” Dean repeated. “Just find his grace, Sammy.”

“It’s ‘Sam’,” Sam corrected. “No demon is going to call me ‘Sammy’.”

“Fine. Have it your way, _Sam_ ,” Dean said. “Just find Cas’ grace so we can give it to him. That way I won’t need to keep hunting angels for a top up for him.”

“How do I even know he’s still alive?” Sam asked. “You could be lying to me.”

Dean groaned. “You’re not going to start that, are you?”

“Angel grace is powerful,” Sam said. “Crowley could just be using you so he can get his hands on it.”

“Cas is alive,” Dean said firmly. “Believe me. He keeps bitching about that fact. Not to mention he keeps going on about how he can ‘cure’ me.”

“We can cure you, Dean,” Sam said. “You know that.”

“I don’t need to be ‘cured’,” Dean said. “I like this, this power. Gives me an edge. I can take out entire vampire nests without breaking a sweat.”

“Is it you or is it the Mark that’s doing that?” Sam asked.

“It’s all me,” Dean said. “Sure the Mark helps, but I’m the one controlling the reins.”

“Or so you think,” Sam said. “Because the Dean I know wouldn’t allow himself to be in this position. Not to mention he wouldn’t have kidnapped Cas.”

“Actually I would,” Dean said. “I just didn’t have the means before.’

Sam set his jaw and stared at his phone. He was torn. The voice on the other end sounded like Dean and talked like him, but his actions were counter to everything Sam would expect of his brother. He wondered if the Dean he had known truly was dead. After all, the last time Sam had seen him was on his bed with no life left in him.

“Still there, Sam?” Dean asked.

“I’m here,” Sam said. “This isn’t you, Dean. Not the real you.”

“Maybe I’m new and improved,” Dean said. “You’ve had a taste of this sort of power, Sam. You know what it’s like.”

“Yes I do,” Sam said. “But that wasn’t me either. That was the demon blood. It corrupted me.”

“You tell yourself that,” Dean said.

“Look, let me talk to Cas,” Sam said. “I need to know he’s alive.”

“No can do,” Dean said. “Cas can’t come to the phone right now. He’s a bit tied up.”

“So he _is_ your prisoner,” Sam said.

“I think of him more as a honoured guest,” Dean said.

“You realise Crowley is going to kill him first chance he gets,” Sam said.

“Trust me, I’ve got my eye on him,” Dean said. “He tries anything and I will know.”

“The angels want you dead,” Sam said.

“Heard as much,” Dean said. “I guess I’ll just have to kill them first.”

“This isn’t you, Dean.”

“Stop. Saying. That.” He could hear annoyance in Dean’s voice. “This is me now. Get used to it.”

“Never.”

He heard Dean sigh. “Fine. Have it your way. Just find Cas’ grace.”

Dean hung up before Sam could answer. He set the phone down, noticing for the first time that his hands were shaking. Sam swallowed the lump in his throat and angrily wiped away the tears in his eyes. That definitely wasn’t Dean. Not the Dean that Sam knew and loved. His brother had been completely corrupted by the Mark.

Sam knew that he could cure Dean. It was only going to be a matter of finding some way to trap him so that he could. He also knew that the chances of him being able to do that on his own were going to be slim. He really wished he had Castiel there to give him help, but Castiel was a prisoner. Sam didn’t even want to think about what was happening to the angel.

Pulling his laptop toward him Sam narrowed down his search parameters. The idea of looking into a library was a good idea and he kicked himself for not having through of it himself. He glanced at his phone and wondered if it was worth calling the angels. Probably not. They had made it clear what their mission was right now and Castiel wasn’t even on their list.

Settling in Sam set about going back to work.


	15. Chapter 15

To say Dean was bored was an understatement. It had been two weeks since he had spoken to Sam on the phone and Crowley had convinced Dean that it would probably be best to lie low for a while. Dean had tried to keep himself busy in Hell but there was only a finite amount of things to do down here. Heck, he’d even had another stab at torture and had found it boring.

Crowley himself had been run off his feet. Something had gone wrong with another business venture of his and he’d been dealing with the fallout. Dean had offered to help but Crowley had completely blown him off. Apparently it needed a delicate touch, and Dean was considered anything but that.

Word had gotten back to them that the angels were indeed looking for Dean. There had been nothing said about them knowing he was pregnant so they doubted it was because of the Nephilim. No doubt they viewed Dean as a threat and wanted him eliminated. Either way that was how Crowley had convinced Dean to stay in Hell for a while until they knew just what the angels were planning.

Dean absently rubbed his abdomen. He still hadn’t had any real signs that he was pregnant yet. There had been no real cravings although potatoes had suddenly started to look very good. There was no morning sickness. Dean figured he was still far too early into the pregnancy for there to be any signs of it. After all, at only six weeks most people didn’t even know they were pregnant yet.

Crowley had assured Dean that his scent hadn’t really changed to give away the fact he was expecting. The only real change was that Dean’s omega scent was apparently a lot less potent these days, but Crowley put that down more to the fact he was mated more than anything. Dean didn’t know if his scent would change the further he got along. He hoped not. The last thing he needed was anyone outside of Castiel and Crowley knowing.

Castiel. Dean frowned at the name. He could still feel anger and worry through their bond. The worry seemed to be growing more with each passing week. Every time Dean visited Castiel in his cell Castiel would ask him to terminate the pregnancy. He would tell him that it was going to kill Dean and leave the child parentless. Dean kept assuring him that that wasn’t going to happen. He was Knight of Hell after all, not some common human. He could handle it.

Crowley had convinced Dean to let Castiel have a little bit longer of a leash. Rather than simply being strapped directly to the wall Dean had put Castiel on a chain. He had also given him a bed to sleep/lie in, although most of the time the bed was used for when Dean pinned Castiel down and had his way with him. Castiel would try and fight him off but Dean was still the stronger of the two, and after a while Castiel would simply lie back and let Dean take what he wanted.

Dean knew that Crowley was still upset with the turn of events. Crowley had made it very clear that he thought that Dean should terminate the pregnancy and just kill Castiel. That he still thought Dean’s plan to be mated was ridiculous. He called it ‘omega brain’ and that the demon in Dean had brought that side out of him because he had repressed it for so long. That Dean was acting on impulse rather than logic. Dean half-wondered if he was right about that.

Either way Dean was now mated. He absently rubbed the mating bite on his neck that was right on his scent gland. You couldn’t see it unless Dean pulled his shirt collar down so the majority of demons didn’t know he even had it. Dean was still a little disappointed about the whole thing. He had expected the bond to be stronger than it was given they were truemates. He wondered if maybe Castiel was somehow repressing their bond from his end. He wouldn’t put it past the angel.

Dean looked up at the roof of the room that Crowley had assigned him. Everything about the place was made of stone. It was boring and dull with nothing really distinguishable about the place. It was starting to drive Dean mad. He had even convinced Crowley to let him make a few hex bags to try and stem his boredom over but even that had been monotonous. He needed to get out of here and do something, and he needed to be gone yesterday.

Sitting up on his bed Dean scratched at the Mark, feeling it burning into him. Torture hadn’t been enough to sate it. He could feel the itch to kill and it was getting to the point that if he didn’t scratch it soon he was going to start killing random demons. He was sure that Crowley wouldn’t be fond of that idea. Dean had always been prone to cabin fever, but with the Mark it was stronger than it had ever been before.

Rolling out of bed Dean glanced at himself in the mirror. It was a new mirror as he had smashed his old one two days ago out of frustration. He blinked, his eyes flicking to black. He couldn’t get Sam’s words out of his mind. He knew that in many ways both Castiel and Sam were right – Dean would never have allowed himself to become this. But at the same time Dean was the one who had chosen to take the Mark of Cain. This was all on him.

He blinked again, his eyes going back to their normal green. He pulled at his shirt and stared for a moment at his mating mark. The bruising was long gone now, leaving only the scar from where Castiel had bitten him. Dean kind of wished that when he and Castiel fucked that Castiel would bite him there again, but he knew that the likelihood of that was slim to none. Unless, of course, he convinced Crowley to mix up another rut potion. That week with Castiel had been fun, even though Dean had known that it wasn’t truly Castiel that was behind it. He absently wondered what Castiel would be like in bed if it was fully consensual. He had a feeling he’d been gentle and sweet.

Dean shook the idea from his mind and pulled his shirt back up to hide the mark. He straightened his clothing and headed out the door of his room. He narrowed his eyes as he spotted the two guards that were out there. Crowley had been putting a guard on him these last couple of weeks. He had a feeling that Crowley didn’t trust him to stay put. Not that a guard would do much if Dean truly decided to leave Hell. Dean would just kill them and go.

He could hear them tailing him as he walked through the corridors and up to the throne room. He stepped inside just as a group of Crowley’s advisors were leaving. He could tell from the looks of their faces that the meeting hadn’t gone well, so Dean braced for Crowley to be in a bad mood. Stepping into the room he spotted a servant on their hands and knees scrubbing blood up off the stones. Dean had missed seeing one of the advisors injured so he wondered if the body had been removed long before he arrived.

He found Crowley seated in his throne, a glass of Craig in his hand and the bottle sitting on the arm of the throne. Sure enough Crowley had a sour look on his face, but he also looked contemplative. Dean knew that was never a good sign and wondered just who was about to bite it next. When Crowley was scheming someone always ended up dead.

“Squirrel,” Crowley said as he spotted Dean. “Been a couple of days since you were in here. How goes the torture?”

“Slowly,” Dean said. “But that’s kind of the point.”

“Yes it is.” Crowley gestured for Dean to take his seat beside him. Dean elected to remain standing, stopping in front of the throne. Crowley found. “Something the matter?”

“I need to get out of here,” Dean said. “The place feels… claustrophobic.”

“Is it the Mark?”

“Partly,” Dean admitted, rubbing his arm. “I just need to hunt something. Killing it would be a bonus.”

“Took you longer than I thought it would,” Crowley admitted. He sipped from his drink. “As a matter of fact I have something that could do with your… expertise.”

Dean frowned. “I thought you wanted me to stay down here?”

“I do,” Crowley said. “But we both know that’s not going to work out well for either of us.”

“No, it’s not,” Dean admitted. “For a start I’m going to gank those guards you’ve sicked on me.”

“That would be inconvenient,” Crowley said. “They’re some of my best.”

Dean looked him over. “So what do you want me to do?”

“Remember that fire at the Brooklyn warehouse?” Crowley asked.

Dean nodded. “You said something about that it kept happening.”

“Turns out one of my people is double crossing me,” Crowley said. “Unfortunately they’ve gone to ground.”

“You want me to find them,” Dean guessed.

“And eliminate them,” Crowley said. “As messily as possible.”

“And slowly, right?”

“Look them in the eyes and tell them I sent you personally,” Crowley said.

“Wow, they must have really pissed you off,” Dean commented.

“You could say that,” Crowley said. He pulled an envelope out of his jacket and held it out. “Here are the details of his last known location. It will give you somewhere to start. Be aware that he seems to have a little band of followers that you will have to deal with.”

“I can do that,” Dean said, patting the First Blade. “Do you have a timeline for getting it done?”

“As soon as possible,” Crowley said. “Bring me his head when you’re done.”

“Will do,” Dean said as he took the envelope from Crowley’s fingers. “I’ll see you when I get back.”

“And Dean,” Crowley said as he turned to go. “Remember to check in. We can’t have you going missing now, can we?”

“Sure thing, Dad,” Dean said sarcastically as he headed out the door.


	16. Chapter 16

It took Dean a lot longer than he had hoped to find the man that Crowley had sent him to find. And it was a man – not a demon. The way Crowley had talked Dean had expected the man to be some kind of monster who was too hard for any other demon to kill, but no, he had just been an ordinary man. Nothing special about him although he did seem to be adept at witchcraft.

It took Dean a week just to pick up a lead on the guy. Dean had started at the warehouse in Brooklyn, using the information he garnered there to pick up the trail. It had taken him across New York and to a few more warehouses before Dean began to realise how deep into the system this guy actually was.

By week two Dean had an active lead that took him out of the state. Apparently the guy was running and trying to send Dean on a wild goose chase. Dean had seen through the deception and followed the real trail. It had taken him straight into a trap where several demons had tried to jump Dean. He had dispatched them all and cleaned up the entire little group. He had kept a couple of them alive to torture the information of his real target out of them before he had put an end to them too.

Week three had seen him in Kansas. Dean had been almost tempted to take a side trip to Lebanon to say hello to Sam but had stuck to his guns. This time the man he was after had tried to trap him with witchcraft and devil’s traps but Dean had managed to escape them. By now he was getting angry though and had let Crowley know it. Crowley had been feeding him whatever information he could come across.

By the end of week four Dean was in Mexico City. He found it a bit annoying given his Spanish had never been very good so Crowley had organised him a translator. She was a feisty little demon who was more than willing to join in on a fight, and Dean had noted that she had been flirting with him from the start. He ignored it, sticking to his mission much to her dismay.

They had crossed back into America by the start of week five, Dean finally cornering their prey in San Antonio, Texas. Dean was furious by this point having been lead in such a long chase. The man had begged for his life, trying in vain a couple more spells and traps that Dean had just shrugged off. Crowley had given Dean a list of questions that he wanted answered so Dean had tortured his victim until he got them. Once Crowley was satisfied Dean had taken great pleasure in slicing his victims head clean from his body. Slowly.

He had handed the head to his female translator, telling her to take it down to Crowley while Dean himself checked into a motel to clean himself up. Afterward he headed out to a diner to get himself a double bacon cheeseburger, finally satisfying a craving he’d been building up over recent weeks. The cravings had definitely started much to his displeasure, but he was still avoiding morning sickness. He wondered if it was because he was a Knight of Hell.

The thought was short lived though when he woke up the next morning to find himself running for the bathroom to revisit dinner. Apparently the only reason he hadn’t been morning sick might have been because he hadn’t been eating. The greasy food didn’t taste so good on the second go around. Dean groaned, wiping his mouth and cursing life. Right at that moment he hated Castiel for putting him in this position before he reminded himself that in reality he’d put himself in it.

Stepping out of the bathroom Dean started as he realised that he was no longer alone. He closed the bathroom door behind him, taking in the three others in the room. He narrowed his eyes, staring at them and noting the white light shining beneath their skin. Angels.

“Can I help you?” He asked them. He recognised one of them. He tried to place her.

“Dean Winchester,” the leader said. “We’ve been looking for you.”

Dean searched his mind trying to place her face. It clicked in his mind. “Hannah, right?”

She nodded. “You are an abomination.”

“Do you say that to all the guys?” Dean flirted.

She glared at him. “We have been tracking you.”

“That’s kind of rude,” Dean said. “You know you could just call if you want to say ‘hi’.”

“We know you have Castiel,” she said. “We are hoping you will release him to us.”

“Not going to happen,” Dean said. “Mind you you could give me Metatron. Five minutes alone with him and I will have Castiel’s grace.”

“Metatron is not leaving Heaven,” she said.

“Fine,” Dean said. “Just throwing it out there but have you considered cutting out his grace and holding it hostage until he gives you the location?”

The angels exchanged a look. Apparently they hadn’t considered it.

“Cause that’s what I would do,” Dean said. “Maybe even give him some sort of flesh wound so he thinks he’s going to die.”

“And if he doesn’t give it?” Hannah asked. “We just let him die?”

“That’s up to you,” Dean said. “I wouldn’t. Not until he gives the information. Torture it out of him.”

The angels exchanged another look.

“We don’t torture,” Hannah said.

“Really?” Dean said. “Pretty sure Naomi would disagree with you there.”

“What Naomi does is not torture,” Hannah said.

“Could have fooled me,” Dean said. “Cas has been tortured by you guys. Pretty sure he knows how to torture folks too.”

Hannah averted her eyes. “There are those of us in our ranks who have practiced torture, but we do not.”

“Maybe you should get those that do and let them go at Metatron,” Dean said. “Because I think that’s the only way you’re going to get anything out of him.”

“We are not here to discuss Metatron,” Hannah said. “We’re here to discuss you.”

Dean gestured back at himself. “About what?”

“You’re dangerous,” Hannah said. “Sam has offered you the opportunity to be cured and you refused to take it.”

“Been talking about me, has he?” Dean said. “Rude.”

“We cannot allow you to exist,” Hannah said. “The Knights of Hell must die.”

“So you’re here to pick a fight,” Dean said. “Tell you what – you walk out that door right now and I’ll let you live. If not…” he shrugged.

The two angels behind her flicked their wrists, their angel blades dropping into their hands. Dean rolled his eyes. He pulled the First Blade from his belt, absently tapping Castiel’s angel blade with his other hand. He saw Hannah spot it, a question in her eyes.

“Yes, this is Cas’ blade,” Dean confirmed for her. “He’s not going to be happy if I kill you. He’s quite fond of you.”

Dean opened his mind up over his bond to Castiel, trying to send images of what he was seeing back to him. He knew that Castiel got the message when he sensed his alarm. Dean smirked, widening his stance and getting ready to fight. He kept the link between him and his angel open. He wanted Castiel to witness this.

“You’ve left us no other choice,” Hannah said.

The two angels behind her dove forward. Dean weaved out of the way, ducking their swings and parrying the next round. He noted that Hannah was standing back watching. Clearly these two were the fighters. Dean frowned as he felt Castiel’s mind open up to him and start sending him predictions of what the next moves would be from the angels. Apparently Castiel had been holding out on his link with him.

There was no time to worry about that now though. Dean punched one of the angels in the face while the other tried to make a grab for him. He elbowed back, catching him in the jaw. Dean danced to the side and let Castiel help guide his movements. He could sense that Castiel didn’t want to hurt the angels but was willing to to prevent them from hurting Dean.

One of the angels dove for his legs and caused Dean to stumble forward and onto the bed. He rolled out of the way as the second angel slashed his blade down, stabbing at where Dean had just been. Dean caught the swing of the next angel with his hand, and blinking he felt his eyes go black as he called on all his strength. He shoved the angel back and over, then danced aside as the next angel swiped at him. He felt a blaze of pain as the angel blade skimmed across his chest, slicing at the skin.

He felt a rush of anger flow through him, Dean throwing himself forward and slamming the angel back into the wall. He twisted his wrist and slammed the First Blade into the angel’s gut. The angel gave a cry as he glowed, the light burning out of him as he died.

Sensing the second angel get up Dean turned back to him. The angel glanced at his fallen brethren for a moment before he brought his blade back up and lunged at Dean. Dean parried the strike, forcing the angel off balance and allowing Dean to stab the First Blade deep into his chest. There was another bright light as the angel died, a silent scream on their lips before they crumpled to the floor.

Dean turned, looking back and spotting Hannah watching on with a blank look on her face. Through their bond Dean could feel Castiel pleading for him to let her live. Dean lowered the blade, eyeing her.

“Your move, Hannah,” Dean said. “We going to party or are you going to walk away?”

Hannah met his eye and Dean was sure he could see fear in them. “You’d let me live?”

“Like I said – Cas likes you,” Dean said. “He’d be mad if I killed you.”

“So Castiel does have some form of control over you,” she said, trying to look through him.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Dean said.

“Where is he?” She asked.

Dean pointed down. “Safe.”

“Hell will burn the stolen grace from him,” Hannah said. “The longer he is in Hell the sooner he will die.”

“Then I guess we better find his grace,” Dean said. “Heard you weren’t on board with that though. You got distracted.”

Hannah looked at him. “You know about the Nephilim.”

“Sam told us,” Dean said. “You’re willing to sacrifice Cas to look for a clump of cells.”

“The Nephilim cannot be allowed to be born,” Hannah said. “If it means we must put Castiel second so be it.”

“Castiel should be your first priority,” Dean said. “The kids not going to be born for months.”

“It has already been two months,” she said.

“Seven to go,” Dean said. “What’s the rush?”

She studied him. “Perhaps we can make a deal.”

“I thought you didn’t deal with demons,” Dean said.

“We can make an exception,” she said. “If you help us find the Nephilim we will help you find Castiel’s grace.”

“Castiel’s grace first,” Dean said. “Then I’ll find your kid.”

She seemed to consider that. “I’ll have to discuss it with the others.”

“Do that,” Dean said. “Then contact Sam with your decision. He’ll pass it on.”

“That is satisfactory,” she said. She glanced back toward the door. “Am I free to leave?”

He gestured for her to go ahead.

He watched as she left. Dean slid the First Blade back onto his belt, then looked down at the bodies of the two angels. Their wings had been burned into the walls and floor of the motel room. Dean scowled. This was going to cost him extra. Pulling out his phone he dialled Crowley’s number to organise a clean-up crew.


	17. Chapter 17

Castiel was reclining on the bed when he heard the door to the cell open. He pulled the thin blanket over himself although he recognised Dean’s gait before he saw him. Dean had seen him naked so many times now Castiel wondered why he even bothered covering himself up, but there was still an element of modesty to him.

He pulled absently at his chains, his wrists still bound. He was happier now that he could move more freely through the space instead of being bound to the wall. He tried to make sure that he kept himself moving so that his body didn’t deteriorate. It was awkward but he had designed himself an exercise routine to keep himself active. The chains that attached him to the wall meant that he was limited in how much he could move around though. He couldn’t reach the cell door, for example.

He watched as Dean entered the cell. Castiel looked him over and noted that Dean looked healthy. He had been worried since he had sensed Dean’s fight with the angels. He knew that Dean had gotten injured in the fight but he could see no sign of it now. Once the fight was over he had closed his mind down again, trying to suppress his bond with Dean. He didn’t need Dean to know his every thought.

“Thank you for sparing Hannah,” Castiel said, speaking for the first time in a long time. His voice sounded foreign to his ears. He didn’t know how long it had been since Dean had last visited but Castiel knew it had been some time.

“Figured she could be useful,” Dean said, stopping by the bed and looking down at Castiel. “She’s going to help us look for your grace.”

Castiel watched him, looking for clues as to what Dean was thinking while probing their bond. “And what did you have to give in return?”

Dean smirked. “I help look for the Nephilim.”

“But you carry the Nephilim,” Castiel said with a frown.

“She doesn’t know that,” Dean said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Just got to keep up the ruse until we get your grace.”

“And if you don’t find the grace before you start showing?” Castiel asked.

“I’m going to be dealing with her through Sam,” Dean said. “She won’t get to see me.”

“I’m surprised she did not sense it already,” Castiel said, eyes dropping down toward Dean’s abdomen. “There is a bright spark in your darkness.”

Dean pressed his hands against his abdomen and frowned. “Wait, you can see that?”

“Mostly through our bond,” Castiel admitted. “But it is visible, yes.”

“Well she didn’t seem to notice anything,” Dean said. “Good thing too, otherwise I would have had to kill her.”

Castiel levelled him with a look. “You enjoy killing my brethren.”

“They make a fun challenge,” Dean admitted. “How’s your stolen grace going anyway? Should I get some more for you?”

Castiel glared at him. “No.”

“Hm.” Dean studied Castiel, no doubt trying to gauge how much grace he had. “It’s starting to get dark around the edges again. You’re burning out again.”

“Each time you give me more grace it will burn out quicker,” Castiel said. “It will be a depleting cycle.”

“Just means I’ll have to keep killing more angels,” Dean said. “Unless we find your grace first.”

“Which you cannot do without Metatron,” Castiel said.

“Gave the angels a few ideas with how to deal with him,” Dean said. “Will be interesting to see if they take them.”

“I assume you mean torture,” Castiel said.

“Of course I mean torture,” Dean said. “Why would it matter to you anyway? After what he did to you?”

“You should not be torturing, Dean,” Castiel said.

“Well I have been,” Dean said. “I’m good at it too.”

“I know,” Castiel said.

“Of course you do,” Dean said. “You made me torture, remember?”

“I still regret that,” Castiel admitted.

“So you say,” Dean said. He reached out, gently caressing Castiel’s face. Castiel turned his face away from him. “Why are you still resisting me?”

“What would you have me do?” Castiel asked.

“I don’t know,” Dean said. “Actually love me back?”

“Demons do not love,” Castiel said flatly.

“And if I recall neither do angels,” Dean said.

Castiel knew that wasn’t true. He had been in love with Dean for some time now. But that was human Dean, not the demon who sat before him now. Something must have shown on his face or through his bond because Dean smirked.

“You do love, don’t you,” Dean said. “Cause you’re broken.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Castiel said.

“You’re not like the other angels,” Dean observed. “You feel emotions. You feel doubt. You don’t follow orders. You actually have free will. As far as the other angels are concerned you’re broken.”

“I don’t care what the other angels think,” Castiel said flatly.

“Yeah, you do,” Dean said. “They’re still your brothers and sisters. You still want to be accepted by them. I think you like being considered one of their leaders. Hell, you’re important enough to them they’re willing to work with a demon to get your grace back.”

“They simply want the grace,” Castiel said. “It cannot fall into the wrong hands. Whether it gets back to me is unimportant.”

“Wrong hands?” Dean said. “You mean like mine?”

“Crowley’s,” Castiel said simply. “I doubt he wants to see me restored.”

“I’ll worry about Crowley,” Dean said. “If he takes your grace I will personally hunt him down to get it back.”

“Why do you want me to have my grace back, Dean?” Castiel asked. “It would be more convenient for you to simply kill me.”

“I just do,” Dean said. “You haven’t been you since you lost it.”

“I have always been me,” Castiel said.

“No you haven’t,” Dean said. He narrowed his eyes. “And I can see it now. You don’t look like other angels. The grace in you is tainted.”

“That’s because it’s not my grace,” Castiel said. “It’s like…” he tried to think of a way to describe it that Dean could understand. “… like putting the wrong battery in a motor.”

“Car won’t start with the wrong battery,” Dean said.

“”My motor starts,” Castiel said. “Just not well.”

“It’s poisoning you,” Dean said. “I can’t let that happen.”

“Yet you never explain why,” Castiel said. He looked up at him. “I am of no use to you, Dean. Especially as I am now.”

“I get to decide that,” Dean said. He caught Castiel by the jaw, leaning in to press a soft kiss on the side of his face. “You have your uses.”

“For sex,” Castiel guessed. “You can get that from anyone.”

“I only have one truemate,” Dean said. He caressed Castiel’s face. “Why are you keeping our bond closed?”

So Dean had sensed that. Castiel averted his gaze. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“When the angels attacked you opened it completely,” Dean said. “I could practically hear you in my head. But when the fight was over you closed it again.”

“You do not need to know my thoughts,” Castiel said.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Dean said. “I open myself to you. Why don’t you return the favour?”

“All you’d get is boredom,” Castiel said. “And the fact I believe you should terminate your pregnancy.”

“You’re still stuck on that?” Dean asked. “We’ve been over this, Cas. That’s not going to happen.”

“It would be better for everyone involved if you did,” Castiel said.

“Everyone but the baby,” Dean said.

“Including the child,” Castiel said. “It will have Crowley as a parental figure. It will be hunted its entire life by angels and demons alike. It could destroy the world-“

“You don’t know that,” Dean cut in. “And besides, it’ll have me. It’ll have you.”

“No it won’t, Dean,” Castiel said. “It will-“

“Destroy me,” Dean finished. “And Crowley will kill you. You keep saying that but you don’t know for sure.”

“I know,” Castiel said. “There is no question about this.”

Dean stared at him. “Has a Nephilim ever been born by a Knight of Hell before?”

“No.” Castiel answered.

“Then you don’t know,” Dean said. “You’re guessing.”

“Nephilim births destroy angels,” Castiel said. “It will surely destroy you.”

“Well I say it’s not going to,” Dean said, standing up. “Keep that in mind.”

He turned and walked back toward the door, Castiel watching him go. When the door swung closed and the locks slid into place Castiel slumped back on the bed. He closed his eyes and let out a long breath. It seemed that Dean was going to leave him mostly alone today. He knew that Dean would be back though. It seemed that the urge for sex was as strong at the urge to kill, and it had been some time since Dean had had sex.

Resettling on the bed Castiel probed their bond and felt the anger simmering from Dean. He was definitely still very much in denial about what will happen if he gave birth. Castiel decided to leave him be for the time being. Perhaps if he kept telling Dean the truth enough it would eventually sink in and cause Dean to make the right decision.

\-----O-----

Sam had discovered that there were more than 16,000 public libraries in the United States, and an untold number of private ones. He knew he was looking for a needle in a haystack but it was the best lead that he had. He used facial recognition technology to try and find any trace of Metatron and/or Gadreel but it was a very slow process. It didn’t help that he didn’t even have a real timestamp to try and latch onto.

He rubbed his tired eyes as he settled back into his chair. He had managed to get a little sleep but he was still mostly running on coffee and energy drinks. The talk with Dean had not done him any favours. His dreams were now plagued with nightmares about Dean with black eyes. Part of him was thrilled that his brother was alive, but the rest of him was horrified by what he was.

Not to mention there was Castiel. Sam was still scared about what could be happening to the angel. He didn’t know what demon!Dean was like. For all he knew he could be torturing Castiel. Even worse, Castiel might already be dead and they could just be trying to get a hold of Castiel’s grace for some other purpose. There was no clear way of knowing.

He glanced up as his phone rang, Sam sliding it toward him and glancing at an unfamiliar number. He frowned, picking it up and answering.

“Hello?”

“Hello Sam,” a familiar voice said.

Sam blinked and straightened. “Hannah?”

“I apologise for our last meeting,” Hannah said. “We’ve reassessed our circumstances and have decided to return to our original agreement.”

Sam felt his heart skip as he realised what this meant. “You mean you’re looking for Cas’ grace again?”

“We are,” Hannah confirmed. “I had a meeting with your brother.”

“Dean? You saw Dean?” Sam sat straight up in his chair. “How is he?”

“A Knight of Hell,” Hannah confirmed. “He is mostly demon.”

“Mostly?” Sam said. “What else is he?”

“Partly human,” Hannah said. “A small part.”

“So he can be saved?” Sam said hopefully.

“He does not wish to be saved,” Hannah said. “But he does still seek to heal Castiel.”

“So you’re working with Dean to find Castiel’s grace,” Sam said.

“That is our agreement,” Hannah said. “Dean has agreed to help us search for the Nephilim.”

Sam nodded. He figured they wouldn’t drop that given how important it had seemed to them. “So you’re wanting to use me as a middle man again?”

“We do,” Hannah said. “I was unsure if you had already spoken with Crowley about the new arrangement.”

“I haven’t heard a thing,” Sam said. “Not for over a month.”

“So I am the first to tell you,” Hannah said.

“Good. This is good,” Sam said. “We can work with this.”

“Your brother gave us some ideas with how to work with Metatron,” Hannah said. “We have decided to implement them.”

Sam frowned. “Wait, you’re going to torture him?”

“Persuasive interrogation,” she corrected.

“That’s torture.”

“Nevertheless we are going to try it,” Hannah said. “It may take some time, however, before he breaks.”

“He is stubborn,” Sam admitted.

“Has your own search been fruitful?”

“No,” Sam said, looking at his computer. “It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack. I don’t know where to even start. I just need more information to narrow things down.”

“We will try and get that information,” Hannah said. “The demons have been continuing their own search for Castiel’s grace. And now they have promised to lend their resources to hunt for the Nephilim.”

“How do you even search for one of those?” Sam asked.

“Our first step is to find the angel who created it,” Hannah answered. “We have several angels whom we are unable to contact. We have been searching for them. Once we find out which one it is they will lead us to the host and thus to the Nephilim.”

“And you’ll destroy it,” Sam said.

“We will destroy them, yes.”

“Wait, _them_?!” Sam frowned. “You plan on killing the mother?”

“And the angel,” Hannah said. “The creation of a Nephilim is punishable by death.”

“Isn’t that a bit extreme?” Sam said.

“If we simply destroy the Nephilim the angel and host may attempt to create another,” Hannah said. “They must be dealt with.”

“Can I just say your rules suck,” Sam said.

“It is the law,” Hannah said.

“That doesn’t make it right,” Sam said. “Cas would never do it.”

“Castiel has not abided by our laws for some time,” Hannah said. “He is also one of the angels we are not in contact with.”

“He’s chained up in Hell,” Sam said. “I think that pretty much rules him out. Besides, Castiel isn’t exactly… into that sort of thing.”

“You mean intercourse,” Hannah said.

“Yeah,” Sam said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “I mean he did once but he’s never really tried again.”

There was a pause. “Castiel has partaken in intercourse?”

Sam really didn’t want to be having this conversation, especially with Castiel’s sister. “It was a while ago. When he was human.”

“Which he no longer is,” Hannah said. “Castiel is currently an abomination of an angel.”

“He’s your brother,” Sam said. “You shouldn’t think of him that way.”

“He is using the grace stolen from our brethren,” Hannah said.

“He didn’t exactly have a choice,” Sam said. “Metatron made him do that.”

“He could have elected to stay human,” Hannah said. “He chose this path for himself.”

“Is that why you’re helping search for his grace?” Sam asked. “Because he’s an abomination?”

“His grace needs to be found,” Hannah said. “An angel’s grace is dangerous in the wrong hands.”

“Yet you’re going to give it to Dean to give back to Cas,” Sam said.

“We will make that decision when we come to it,” Hannah said.

“Wait, so you may _not_ give the grace back?” Sam said with a frown.

“We will evaluate the situation when we find it,” Hannah said.

“Wow.” Sam shook his head. “Sometimes I think you guys are worse than the demons. At least the demons keep their deals.”

There was another pause, Sam realising that he had just insulted an angel. He stared at his phone as he waited for her to speak again. As he waited he wondered why Crowley and/or Dean hadn’t contacted him to let him know that the deal was back on. He felt like that, despite being the so called ‘middle-man’, he was the one most out of the loop.

“We will contact you when we have any information,” Hannah said. “Farewell Sam.”

She hung up the phone before he could speak again. Sam raised his eyebrows and ended the call, setting the phone down on the table top. This whole thing was one big mess. He closed his eyes and thought about praying to Castiel. He wondered if Castiel could even hear him from Hell. Sam really wished he could talk to him. He really missed the angel.

He pulled the computer toward him and stared at the algorithm running on the screen. He knew that without any information it was probably going to take him months, possibly years, to get through the entire database. And he was on a time limit – the libraries would delete old security footage after a while. Some of them already had.

Sam sighed and rubbed his eyes. This was going to take forever.


	18. Chapter 18

“I have a job for you,” Crowley said as Dean wandered into the place that could only be described as a kitchen. Why Crowley had one Dean didn’t know – demons didn’t need to eat. Crowley seemed to on occasion though, and Dean’s cravings were really starting to kick in now.

“What do you need?” Dean asked, searching the cupboards and finding a bag of potato chips. He pulled it out and opened it, crunching into them.

“Do you remember Anton?” Crowley said. “Short guy. Glasses. About yay high.” He gestured with his hands at about Dean’s shoulder height.

“One of your advisors, right?” Dean said. “Real kiss ass.”

“Apparently he has been double crossing me,” Crowley said. “I want you to find out with who.”

“So you want me to torture him?” Dean asked, still munching on the chips.

“Preferably,” Crowley said. “I have him locked up in the dungeon right now. I should warn you he won’t be easy to break. Torture was part of the process that made him a demon in the first place.”

“So I’m going to need something special for him,” Dean guessed. “I can do that.”

Crowley poured himself a cup of tea, picking up the cup and sipping from it. He scowled down at it a moment before setting it back onto the bench. “The sooner you start the better. I need to know who he is working for and why.”

“Anything else you want to know?” Dean asked.

“Their location,” Crowley said. “Once you have the information come to me. I will decide what to do next.”

“You don’t want them dead?”

“Not yet,” Crowley said. He narrowed his eyes. “Just so you know Anton is involved in searching for your angel’s grace. He may be seeking it for his own reasons.”

A flash of anger shot through Dean at that news. “I thought you said we could trust everyone involved in that.”

“I said no such thing,” Crowley said. “We’re demons. Trust no one.”

Dean glanced down at his packet of chips and absently remembered that he was worried about the fact Crowley might poison him. He set the bag back down on the counter. Crowley watched his move with some interest.

“Which cell is he in?” Dean asked.

“He’s in the VIP wing,” Crowley said. “He’s all strung up and ready for you to do your magic.”

“I’ll get to it then,” Dean said, wiping his hands clean on his pants. “So we’re clear – no holds barred. I can do what I want to him.”

“Except kill him,” Crowley said. “I have… plans.”

“Okay. Everything except kill him. Got it.”

Dean turned and headed out the door and made his way to the dungeon.

\-----O-----

Castiel’s eyes snapped open as he heard a distant voice. He frowned, trying to focus on it. It was carrying over ‘angel radio’ which made it distorted. He could barely make it out but he knew what it was. A prayer. Someone was praying to him.

He concentrated hard, trying to grab snatches of what was being said. He felt a migraine beginning to form as he focussed. A presence washed over him allowing him to identify who was behind the prayer. Sam. Sam was praying to him.

Castiel raised his eyes toward the roof and felt warmth spread through him. Sam knew he must be alive and still had enough faith in him to pray. Castiel smiled for the first time in a long time, silently thanking Sam. Even though he couldn’t hear the words that were being said just knowing that Sam was there was enough for Castiel. When he eventually escaped he would personally thank the younger Winchester. Knowing Sam was praying to him gave Castiel hope.

He was distracted as he heard footsteps outside his cell. He looked up toward the door as he recognised Dean’s gait. He waited for the door to open but instead Dean walked right by his cell. There was purpose in his walk. Castiel probed their bond to try and work out what Dean was up to and felt a quiet resolution in the demon. Dean was on some sort of mission.

Castiel pushed himself up, standing and walking toward the door as far as his chains would allow. He tried to see what Dean was seeing but Dean had closed off his side of the bond. Whatever it was he didn’t want Castiel to know what he was up to. Castiel absently rubbed his neck where his mating mark was, the mark itching for a moment.

“What are you doing, Dean?” Castiel asked softly.

He felt more walls go up between them. Tilting his head Castiel focussed on their bond, trying to catch snippets of what Dean was doing. He caught the glimpse of a room with a man chained up. The way he was tied up told Castiel all he needed to know. Torture. Dean was about to torture someone again. Castiel felt sadness wash over him as he realised this. Dean should not be torturing. It will add to the nightmares he will sustain once he became human again.

Castiel crossed back to the bed and dropped down to sit on the edge. He closed his bond with Dean so he wouldn’t have to see what Dean was going to do. He knew enough – that Dean was feeling the bloodlust of the Mark. That he had a purpose to the torture. That he was actually looking forward to doing it. Castiel had to remind himself that Dean was a demon. His Dean would never have agreed to torture again.

He scrubbed his hands over his face and settled in. He felt for the man that would be on the end of Dean’s questions. This was going to be unpleasant.

\-----O-----

Crowley had been right about Anton not being an easy one to break. Dean had lost count of the days he had spent trying to get the information out of the snivelling little weasel. Crowley had come to visit a couple of times, playing the “good cop” to Dean’s “bad cop”. Still Anton had refused to give up the information.

Dean had tried every trick in his book and even a few new ones to no avail. In his breaks he had delved into Hell’s library to read up on new torture techniques and had found a few interesting ones that had been used over the centuries. At least Anton had stopped laughing at him which he took as a positive sign that he was getting to him.

“Any word yet?” Crowley had asked as he found Dean in the library. “It’s been nearly two weeks.”

“He hasn’t broken yet,” Dean admitted, studying the book on ancient Chinese torture.

“Perhaps you’re not as good as I thought you were,” Crowley said.

“I’m good,” Dean assured him. “He’s just strong.”

“That snake isn’t strong,” Crowley said. “He’s a pushover.”

“Apparently you were wrong about him,” Dean said. “He’s a lot stronger than you thought.”

“I do pick the best people,” Crowley admitted. “Just get what I want out of him.”

“I will,” Dean said. He turned the page, looking up as Crowley started to walk away. “Any word from the angels?”

“You mean about your pet’s grace?” Crowley said. “I had a conversation with Sam two days ago. They have nothing although they are interrogating Metatron as we speak.”

“So they’re torturing him,” Dean said. “Good. The prick deserves it.”

“Feeling a bit of need for revenge, are we?” Crowley said. “He did kill you after all.”

“Just give me five minutes with him,” Dean said. “I’d have him singing.”

“Yet you can’t get Anton to ‘sing’,” Crowley reminded him.

“Just give me time,” Dean said. “I’m wearing him down, I know it.”

“For your sake I hope so,” Crowley said as he left, Dean glaring after him.

Dean returned to the dungeon and Anton’s cell. On the way he passed by Castiel’s cell and contemplating stopping in to see the angel. He decided against it. Time with Castiel was a reward and he had nothing to be rewarded for. Instead he headed straight to Anton’s cell to begin a fresh set of techniques to try and break the demon.

It took several more days before the cracks started to show. It seemed that persistence was going to pay off. Dean had done everything but outright kill the demon by now, including disendowment and tying his intestines up in a pretty bow before pumping them full of holy water. Seeing his guts hanging out of him seemed to have done the trick, as the next time Crowley came to visit Anton had broken his silence.

The person he was walking for turned out to be an alpha demon that Crowley had thought had been killed long ago. Anton had even been so kind as to give them a location and a motive. Apparently the alpha demon wanted Castiel’s grace for himself and had been using Crowley’s resources to search for it. He wanted it so he could use it against Dean, to make Dean work for him. To make Dean his “bitch”.

Crowley hadn’t even had to ask Dean to kill the other demon; Dean was on board the moment that Anton had given up his secrets. Crowley had simply nodded at Dean and given a gesture of ‘go ahead’ and Dean had been out the door and out of Hell. It hadn’t taken him long to locate the rogue demon, and Dean had had the pleasure of staring him straight in the eyes before he run him through with the words “who’s the bitch now”.

When Dean had return to Hell he had found Crowley’s people setting up Anton’s body. Apparently while he had been gone Crowley had taken the liberty of getting what little information was left out of the demon before he had told his people to display the body in a prominent position to remind everyone not to double cross him. Anton’s guts were still spilling out of him, his throat slit where Crowley had placed the finally blow.

“I told you the angel was going to be a liability,” Crowley had said as Dean joined him in the throne room. “Loose ends always end up being used against you.”

“I’m still not killing him,” Dean said as he dropped into his seat.

Crowley rolled his eyes. “What are you now? Eleven weeks?”

Dean paused and did the math in his head. “Twelve. Nearly thirteen.”

“Still not too late to terminate.”

“No.” Dean pressed a hand against his abdomen protectively. He could almost see the light that Castiel had commented on now. It was cloaked in Dean’s murky darkness but Dean was starting to get worried that it might be visible to anyone who looked hard enough. “Any news from Sam?”

“Metatron still hasn’t broken,” Crowley said. “Apparently angels aren’t as effective at torture as you are.”

“I tell you, just five minutes alone with him,” Dean said. “Cut his grace out and tie his intestines in a bow. He’ll break.”

“That was rather imaginative,” Crowley complimented. “Makes for a rather elegant art piece.”

“How long you going to leave that body up?” Dean asked.

“Long enough to get the message out,” Crowley said. “I’d have it in here except it would stink up the place.”

“Fair enough.” Dean stretched, sliding out of his seat.

“And where are you going?” Crowley asked.

“Been a while since I saw Cas,” Dean said. “Thought I’d pay him a visit.”

“Say hello to Feathers for me,” Crowley said.

“I won’t,” Dean said as he headed for the door.


	19. Chapter 19

Castiel had found that meditation was a very effective way of passing the time. He sat crossed-legged on the bed, hands on his knees as he tried to focus his mind. He had read books on the subject when he had been free, as well as a few that Metatron had uploaded to his mind. He found his centre and let himself drift, calming himself. It seemed to have also had the effect of slowing down the grace from burning out within him.

He was so deep in his mind that he didn’t hear the door to the cell open. His eyes were closed as he floated, drifting on a different level of consciousness. He had tried to tune into angel radio while he was doing this but that had resulted in a migraine. His stolen grace was a poor conduit, and being in Hell had muffled what little chance he had left of reaching out to his brethren.

The sound of snapping and his name dragged him out of his thoughts, and opening his eyes he found Dean looking at him.

“Hello Dean,” Castiel said calmly.

“What the hell, man,” Dean said. “Are you doing some hippy shit or something?”

“I am meditating,” Castiel said, closing his eyes again and not moving. “It is relaxing.”

“I can see that,” Dean said, sitting on the bed next to him. “You’re completely zoned out.”

Castiel opened his eyes again and looked at him. “What do you want, Dean?”

“Came to see you,” Dean said.

“So you’re done torturing then.”

Dean frowned. “How do you…” he scowled. “The bond. You sensed it.”

“I did, yes,” Castiel said. “I take it you got what you wanted.”

“I did,” Dean said. “Some demon prick working against Crowley to try and get your grace.”

“My grace is a powerful commodity,” Castiel said. “There will be many who will be after it.”

“Well we’re going to get it first,” Dean said. “No punk ass demon is going to take it away from us.”

“I still fail to see why you are so determined to restore my grace,” Castiel said.

“Now you’re sounding like Crowley,” Dean said. “If I restore your grace I don’t have to keep killing angels to keep you alive.”

Castiel looked him over. “And for what purpose am I alive? Apart from your frequent sexual assaults.”

Dean glared at him at that. “If you just did it willingly I wouldn’t need to assault you, would I.”

“That is not going to happen, Dean,” Castiel said.

“You did while you were in your rut,” Dean said. “You couldn’t get enough of me.”

“That was not me,” Castiel said. “You turned me into an animal.”

“Maybe I should do it again,” Dean threatened. “That was some of the best sex I’ve ever had.”

Castiel glared at him a moment before closing his eyes again, trying to calm his simmering anger. He knew Dean was trying to push his buttons and he wasn’t about to let him. Castiel quietened his mind, focussing on his breathing the way the books as described it.

“Oh great, now you’re ignoring me,” Dean said. “Peachy.”

“I am not ignoring you, Dean,” Castiel said. “I am simply not going to stoop to your level.”

“So you look down on me,” Dean said. “It’s because I’m a demon, isn’t it. And you’re an angel so you think you’re all high and mighty.”

Castiel didn’t dignify that with a response.

“News flash, you’re not better than me,” Dean said. “Who was it that set the Leviathans free again?”

Castiel’s eyes snapped open at that. He hated being reminded of that time. He knew he had overstepped his boundaries by working with Crowley and taken on board the souls, but he had been desperate to defeat Raphael. If he hadn’t done what he had done than Raphael would have restarted the apocalypse and thus destroyed earth and all living things.

“And how about Heaven?” Dean continued. “Whose fault is it that the gates got slammed shut and all the angels got booted out?”

He could feel his anger simmering up again. Castiel set his jaw. He knew Dean was right – he had made many mistakes over the years and others had been the ones to pay for them. People and angels had died because of him. Nothing he could ever do would allow him to repent for his sins.

“All the more reason to simply let me die,” Castiel said.

“Not happening,” Dean said. “You’ve got to suffer like the rest of us.”

“So that’s what this is about,” Castiel said. “You’re punishing me for my transgressions.”

“No, it’s not,” Dean said. “Have you ever stopped to think that maybe I want you alive just because I do?”

“I serve no purpose,” Castiel said. “I am also a liability to you.”

“You really _are_ starting to sound like Crowley,” Dean accused.

“Then he is thinking logically,” Castiel said. “I am better off dead to you.”

“Will you stop fucking saying that!” Dean snapped. His hand came down on Castiel’s knee, fingers squeezing hard enough that Castiel knew it would bruise. “I’m keeping you alive for a reason.”

“And what is that reason?” Castiel asked.

It was Dean who was silent this time. Castiel could see the cogs spinning behind his eyes as he tried to come up with an answer. Instead Dean just glared at him. Castiel sighed, closing his eyes again and trying to calm his mind once more.

“Will you stop doing that,” Dean complained. “Look at me.”

“Why?” Castiel asked, not opening his eyes.

“You’re being a little shit today, you know that,” Dean growled.

“How would you have me act, Dean?” Castiel asked. “Do you want me to lash out at you so that you will have an excuse to beat me?”

“Beat-“ Dean stared at him. “Who said anything about beating you?”

“It will only be a matter of time,” Castiel said. “You are a demon after all, and the Mark demands blood.”

Dean rubbed his arm where the Mark was. “It’s not your blood it demands.”

“Then whose blood is it?” Castiel asked. “Crowley’s?”

“He is starting to get on my nerves,” Dean admitted. “Not him. Not yet.”

“Yet,” Castiel said. “That means you will eventually kill him.”

“If he keeps using me like his attack dog I will have too,” Dean said. “I’m getting sick of running errands for him.”

“I take it the torture was for Crowley,” Castiel said.

“He needed to hunt down a rival,” Dean said. “I killed him.”

“So you’re Crowley’s bitch,” Castiel said.

He felt Dean’s anger flare through their bond, the hand on Castiel’s knee tightening its grip. Then Castiel found himself falling backwards as he was shoved back, a hand wrapped around his throat as Dean leaned over him. Castiel looked up into the black eyes of a demon. He willed Dean to squeezed his fingers tighter, knowing that with his strength that Dean could easily snap Castiel’s neck. In his weakened state that might actually kill Castiel.

“I am nobody’s bitch,” Dean growled. “Not Crowley’s. Not yours. Nobody’s.”

Castiel remained silent as he stared up into black eyes. He could feel his stolen grace wanting to flare to try and protect him but he willed it down. The anger over their bond was crashing into him in waves but Castiel felt no fear. At his ribs he realised he could feel the First Blade pressing into them. All Dean had to do was stab down. Over their bond he urged Dean to kill him and put him out of his misery.

Instead Dean’s hand loosened its grip as he blinked, eyes turning back to familiar green. Dean frowned, seemingly surprised to find what position he was in. He let go of Castiel’s throat and sat back. He stared at his hands as if they had betrayed him, quickly placing the First Blade back on his belt. He abruptly stood from the bed, backing away. Castiel watched as Dean practically fled the room, swinging the door closed behind him and locking it securely.

On the bed Castiel let out a shaky breath, pushing himself up onto his elbows. He looked down and noted that Dean had actually cut him with the First Blade. It wasn’t deep but it was enough for there to be blood. He hovered his hand over it to heal himself but decided against it. He needed to spare his grace else Dean would kill another angel.

Looking toward the door Castiel realised that what he had feared was coming to pass. The Mark was still corrupting Dean. What little human he had left was being eaten away and turning Dean not only into a demon but a monster. Castiel actually pitied Crowley. He wondered if the King of Hell actually knew what he was dealing with.

\-----O-----

Dean was in a dark mood, Crowley could see that. He wondered what had transpired between Feathers and the Squirrel. Dean had been brooding for the better part of the last couple of days. From what the demons had been telling him Dean had been on somewhat of a rampage in Hell, smashing up several rooms including his own.

Things could be replaced, but demons were harder. Random bodies had started to appear littered around Hell. Most of them were alphas Crowley noted, and when alphas died in such numbers it usually meant that either an alpha was making a move to attempt to take the throne, or an omega was on a murder spree. He had a feeling it was the latter.

Walking through the corridors Crowley could see that his people were on edge. They were jumping at shadows and he didn’t like that. Setting his jaw Crowley knew that something needed to be done. He pulled his coat tighter around him as he headed down toward the area that he had given Dean to live. He crinkled his nose as he smelt corpses, and as he rounded the corner he found yet another pile of alpha bodies. He recognised one or two of them as the guards he had ordered to tail Dean. This was definitely getting out of hand.

He paused outside the door to Dean’s room and knocked. There was no response even though Crowley could sense that Dean was on the other side of the door. Given that he was the King and this was his domain Crowley threw caution to the wind and pushed the door open. When nothing charged at him he took a step inside.

Dean was stretched out on the bed on his stomach, the First Blade gripped tightly in his hand. Crowley could see that it was stained with blood. No doubt from all the demons that Dean had been killing. Crowley scowled, stepping further into the room and taking in the destruction. The mirror was smashed again, and the furniture overturned. Nothing seemed to have escaped Dean’s wrath.

“I see we’ve been having a tantrum,” Crowley commented as he stopped in the middle of the room. “Pray tell why.”

“None of your fucking business,” Dean growled.

“You made it my business when you started killing my demons,” Crowley said. “This started after you visited Feathers. Did something happen?”

“I said it’s none of your fucking business,” Dean repeated.

“Stop being a child and answer me,” Crowley pushed. “Or is this some sort of hormonal rage.”

Dean pushed himself up, gripping the First Blade tightly as he stopped just short of Crowley. “Get out of my room.”

“Technically it’s my room,” Crowley said. “All rooms around here are. Because I’m the King.”

“If you don’t leave you won’t be,” Dean growled.

“So we’re back to that,” Crowley said. “Is it the blood lust? Because if so I have a few new targets you can take out.”

“I’m not your attack dog,” Dean said. “Find someone else to take them out.”

“Well I would, except you keep killing them,” Crowley shot back. “What is wrong with you? Tell me!”

“I don’t answer to you,” Dean growled. “I don’t answer to anyone. Now get out of my fucking room!”

“This isn’t over, Winchester,” Crowley said. “Stop killing my people or I’ll have to do something about it.”

“What?” Dean mocked. “You think you can take me on? I’m a Knight of Hell.”

“And I’m the King!” Crowley spat. “You answer to _me_.”

Dean took a menacing step forward, gripping the First Blade tighter. “Dead demons can’t be Kings.”

“Is that a threat?” Crowley asked.

“That’s a promise,” Dean sneered.

Crowley stood his ground as Dean rounded on him slowly. He could see the rage in Dean’s eyes and knew that something in him had snapped. Crowley had been expecting this. He had hoped it wouldn’t happen but he knew that the Mark was unstable. Crowley set his jaw, knowing this was a fight he wouldn’t be able to win. Not on his own anyway.

“Fine,” Crowley said. “I’ll leave. But we will need to have a serious discussion about your loyalties.”

“I’m not loyal to you,” Dean said. “Never was.”

“We will see,” Crowley said as he stepped toward the door. He cast one last glance back at Dean and saw him glowering after him. Crowley threw him one last glare before exiting the room and closing the door behind him. He paused a moment, reaching into his pocket and taking out a key. Without hesitation he placed it in the lock on the door to Dean’s room and turned it, locking the Knight of Hell inside.

There was a moment’s pause before he heard Dean try the door, then begin pounding on it shouting after Crowley. Crowley stepped away from it and headed back down the corridor. The door would hold for now. The room that Dean occupied was originally a cell designed to hold the strongest of creatures. That was why Crowley had given him the room in the first place. He had expected Dean to turn on him eventually and he was always one to plan ahead.

Deciding he needed answers Crowley headed down to the dungeon. He growled to himself as he passed more bodies, knowing that his numbers had been severely thinned during Dean’s little tantrum. It meant Crowley was going to have to find new guards that were loyal to him. Strong and loyal alphas were a rare thing in Hell. He was going to have to make do with betas for the time being. Maybe he should mix things up with a few strong omegas. They could be quite vicious.

He reached Castiel’s cell without being stopped, most demons seeming to give him a wide berth. No doubt they could sense his mood and didn’t want to interrupt him. Crowley unlocked the door and stepped inside, casting his gaze around the room. He spotted Castiel leaning against the wall, a curious look on his face as he looked toward Crowley.

“So you’re still alive,” Crowley commented as he made his way over to him. He frowned as he looked Castiel over, noting the bruises on his neck and a cut on his abdomen. “Dean hurt you, did he?”

“A Knight of Hell hurt me,” Castiel answered.

Crowley frowned at that. “What do you mean?”

“Dean is losing himself,” Castiel said. “The demon in him is getting stronger. The Mark is taking control.”

“Bullocks,” Crowley said. It was worse than he thought. “How bad is it?”

“You tell me,” Castiel said. “You were just with him.”

“Ah yes, I forgot you can sense that now,” Crowley said. “Your bond.”

“I can feel Dean slipping,” Castiel said. “The darkness in him is growing.”

“I expect his hormones are playing a factor,” Crowley said.

“The Nephilim has been trying to sooth him,” Castiel said. “It is threatened by the darkness.”

“Threatened how?”

“It threatens to overtake its light,” Castiel said. “It is being tainted along with Dean.”

“So you think the child is being turned into a demon?” Crowley asked.

“It is becoming something,” Castiel said. “And it is not good.”

“And you said Dean will die when it is born,” Crowley said.

Castiel nodded.

“Well I can’t leave him locked up for six months,” Crowley muttered.

“Five and a half,” Castiel corrected.

“Still too long,” Crowley said. “And who knows what kind of Hellspawn he’ll give birth too.”

“You were always walking down a dangerous road with him, Crowley,” Castiel said. “He wishes you dead.”

“Got that impression too, did you?” Crowley rubbed his jaw. He needed to come up with a new plan, and he needed it now. “What we need now is some sort of saving grace.”

“My grace,” Castiel said. “With it I could overpower Dean.”

Crowley looked at him sharply. “You’re certain of that.”

Castiel nodded again.

“Then I need to buy us some time,” Crowley said.


	20. Chapter 20

Sam was worried. Less than week ago he’d received a cryptic message from Crowley telling him to urge the angels to hurry up with their search for Castiel’s grace. He’d tried to ring him but it had gone straight to voicemail. If Sam didn’t know better it was as if Crowley was lying low, which could only mean one thing: something was wrong with Dean.

Sam had passed the message onto the angels who had told him that they were getting close to cracking Metatron. Apparently the angel had started pleading with them which was a good sign that he was close to breaking. Sam just hoped that they could get the location in time before Dean did something to Crowley, or worse, to Castiel.

He paced the bunker, exhaustion playing at his mind. He hadn’t been able to sleep since that text message. He’d gotten small snatches of sleep when he’d passed out from exhaustion but no real proper sleep. He stared at his computer and wished it would hurry up and identify the location so they could make a move on it. He was starting to get frustrated now, and he knew that it was probably worse for Castiel. He only assumed that Castiel was still alive and that Crowley wasn’t lying to him. Then again Crowley was always one to keep his deals.

Sam dropped into a seat and rubbed his eyes, feeling the stubble on his face. He really needed to shave. He just hadn’t had the energy to do it. He knew he must look shaggy with a beard. Then again no one had seen him in a while. His entire time had been taken up with running the search for Metatron and Gadreel in an attempt to find Castiel’s grace. Sam hadn’t been hunting in months. Not since Dean had disappeared.

He jumped as his phone rang, Sam pulling it toward him and noting the unfamiliar number. He answered it.

“Hello?”

“Sam,” Hannah said. “I have news from Metatron.”

Sam sat up straighter, hope fluttering in his chest. “He gave you a location?”

“Not an exact one,” Hannah said. “However he has named a city.”

Sam pulled his computer toward him. “Where?”

She named it, Sam typing it into the computer.

“There are three libraries in that city,” Sam said. “Only two of them have surveillance.”

“He also gave us a cryptic clue,” she said. She read it out, Sam grabbing a notepad and scribbling it down. “I trust you can do something with that.”

“It’s a start,” Sam said. “I’ve started running the scan now. Do you have any dates? When they were there?”

“No,” she admitted. “He fell silent after that.”

“Silent or unconscious?”

“Both,” she admitted. “I do not think we’ll get more out of him. Not for some time.”

“Okay,” Sam said. “Crowley says we’re on the clock so hopefully I can come up with something. It certainly narrows down the search.”

“I hope I have been of help,” Hannah said. “Have the demons said anything of the Nephilim?”

“Not yet,” Sam said. “I’ll ask them next time I hear from them.”

“Thank you,” she said.

She hung up the phone, Sam feeling a flicker of excitement through him. He stared at the computer as it began the search using the parameters he had entered. Eventually his eyes began to hurt and grow heavy, Sam drifting off to sleep and slumping down onto the table. He slept fitfully, dreaming of Dean with black eyes and holding the First Blade, the Mark glowing on his arm as he hunted Sam through the bunker.

The sound of the computer beeping snapped Sam out of his dreams. He raised his head and blinked the fog out of his eyes. Staring at the screen it slowly began to dawn on him that it had found something. Adrenaline flashed through him as he dragged the computer closer, finding that it had confirmed a trace on Gadreel. He had the library.

Sam’s fingers fumbled for his phone as he tried to pick it up. He quickly dialled Crowley’s number, frowning as the phone went to voicemail.

“Crowley,” Sam said. “I have the location of Cas’ grace. Call me.”

He hung up and knew he couldn’t do anything until Crowley rang him back. Sam’s stomach growled a reminder that he hadn’t eaten anything in some time. Sam headed for the galley and made himself a sandwich. He managed to eat it, making himself a fresh cup of coffee while he was at it. He wondered if Crowley was all right. He wondered if Castiel was still alive. What exactly was going on with Dean?

He still hadn’t heard anything back when he was finished, Sam deciding that he couldn’t do anything right now. He went to his room and settled onto his bed to try and get some sleep. He found it impossible, constantly checking his phone as he waited for Crowley to call. He willed Crowley to check his messages.

He eventually dozed off, falling back into a fitful slumber. This time he dreamed of Crowley dead at Dean’s feet, Castiel chained up next to the throne in Hell while Dean sat on the throne himself, the new King of Hell. His eyes burned black as he turned and smiled at Sam with a toothy grin.

His eyes snapped open as his phone rang, Sam sitting up abruptly and grabbing it. His heart raced as he saw Crowley’s number.

“Crowley!”

“Moose,” Crowley said. “What do you have?”

“A location,” Sam said. “And a clue.”

“Tell me.”

Sam listed out the information.

“That’s all?” Crowley said. “A suspected location and a quote from Don Quixoti?”

“That’s what that is?” Sam asked.

“Surely you’ve read the classics,” Crowley chastised. “I’ll go look. Hopefully the angels aren’t leading us on a goose chase.”

“Is everything alright?” Sam asked. “Has something happened to Cas? Or Dean?”

“Never you mind that,” Crowley said. “I suggest you prepare your little dungeon. If the grace is where you think it is we’re going to need it.”

“Okay,” Sam said, nodding. “Hey Crowley?”

“What?”

“Any word on the Nephilim?” Sam asked. “The angels were wondering.”

“Perhaps,” Crowley said. “It’s the least of my worries right now.”

“You know the angels are going to kill the host, right?” Sam said. “And the angel.”

There was a pause. “Is that so?”

“Apparently it’s their law,” Sam said. “So if you do find it, maybe tell them to go to ground.”

“The birth of the Nephilim kills the host,” Crowley said. “You do know that.”

“So the host dies either way,” Sam said. “It’s still not too late to terminate the pregnancy.”

“Trust me, that option has very much been encouraged,” Crowley said. “Now let me go and seek out Cassie’s grace.”

“Okay,” Sam said. “Good luck.”

“I’ll be in touch soon.”

Crowley hung up, Sam finding that his heart was racing. He closed his eyes and made a silent prayer to Castiel, hoping that he could hear him. This was their best chance of finding his grace. He had a feeling that he was going to see Dean soon as well.

Pushing himself up off the bed Sam headed deeper into the bunker to begin preparing the dungeon to house a demon.

\-----O-----

Crowley stepped into the library, nose crinkling at the smell of the old books. He had never been a fan of libraries. He had spent far too long in them over the years. Mind you, his kind of library was mostly made up of spell books and tomes. He noted that this library was a lot less dusty than the type he frequented so he was thankful for that.

He began walking the shelves, scanning them for any sign of the book he was looking for. His eyes read the spines of the books, his fingers brushing over them as he went. There were a good number of books in this library but it wasn’t a very large one which should make his quest a little bit easier.

He stopped short as he heard the door open, and turning around he looked toward the doorway. His fingers wrapped around the dagger on his belt as he prepared to confront whoever it was that had entered. His eyes narrowed as he spotted the familiar shape of an angel.

“Hannah,” he said.

“Crowley,” she answered. “Sam contacted you as well.”

“He did,” Crowley said. “I’m surprised you got here so quickly.”

“We were already in town,” Hannah admitted. “Sam sent us the coordinates less than an hour ago.”

“Did he tell you what to look for?”

“A book,” she answered. Her eyes scanned the shelves. “One I have never read.”

“You angels do tend to be rather illiterate,” Crowley commented. “I’m surprised you can read at all.”

She glared at him.

“I really don’t see the point of us both being here,” he commented. “I can find the grace by myself.”

She didn’t answer, instead starting to walk and scan the shelves.

“Oh I see,” Crowley said as he returned to his own search. “You still don’t trust me.”

“We have no guarantee that you will return the grace to Castiel,” Hannah said.

“Trust me, it will get back to where it belongs,” Crowley said. “I need Cassie powered up.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Because he can assist me with a rather large problem that I have,” Crowley answered.

“What makes you think he will help you?”

“You could say it is of mutual interest.”

“You’re talking about Dean Winchester,” Hannah said. “You wish to kill him.”

“I wish him gone from my domain, yes,” Crowley said. “I intend to turn him over to Sam.”

“Sam will not kill him,” Hannah said.

“What Sam does with him is his problem,” Crowley said. “I just want him gone.”

“And you think Castiel will help you,” Hannah said.

“He still believes that Dean can be cured,” Crowley said. “I figure why not let them try.”

“And if he cannot?” Hannah asked.

“Then I trust that Castiel will do the right thing,” Crowley said. “He does not enjoy seeing Dean as a demon.”

“You have a lot of faith in him,” Hannah said as she walked the aisle beside his, scanning the books.

“Isn’t that what angels are for?” Crowley said, frowning as he spotted something. “Your famous for your faith, however misguided it is.”

“Faith is everything,” Hannah said.

Crowley stopped, reaching up and plucking Don Quixoti from the shelf. He brought it down and flipped through it, discovering that it had been hollowed out. A vial glowed in the space, Crowley picking it up and turning it over in his hands. He scowled. This was really what everyone had been searching for?

“You found it,” Hannah said as she rounded the corner and looked at him.

“This is it then,” Crowley said, holding it up. “All this for this one little vial.”

Hannah held out her hand. “I ask for you to hand it over.”

“Not going to happen,” Crowley said, slipping the vial into his pocket. “This is going back to Castiel.”

“I cannot allow a demon to have it,” Hannah said, her angel blade appearing in her hand. “Hand it over peacefully.”

“You forget something,” Crowley said. “Your wings might be clipped, but I’m a demon. I have no issue with teleportation.”

And with that he was gone.


	21. Chapter 21

Castiel was mediating again on his bed when he heard the door to the cell open. He snapped his eyes open, half expecting Dean to come strolling through the door. He touched their bond and sensed the rage that was flowing through it from Dean, and an element of claustrophobia that told Castiel that Dean was still confined elsewhere in Hell.

Instead Crowley stepped through the door, his coat flowing around him as he entered. Castiel frowned as he spotted familiar clothing in his arms.

“You have my clothes,” Castiel commented.

“You really thought we’d be able to go through with our plan while you’re naked?” Crowley asked, dropping the clothes onto the bed beside Castiel. “Now get dressed.”

Castiel held up his hands to remind Crowley that he was still bound. Crowley scowled, reaching into his pocket and fishing out a key. He undid the lock to Castiel’s bindings, the chains falling free. That done Crowley turned his back, Castiel climbing off the bed and reaching for his clothing and beginning to dress.

“Why are you doing this?” Castiel asked. “Why are you helping me?”

“Purely business,” Crowley said. “Dean has become a handful. Having him as a demon has caused me nothing but grief. Fix the problem.”

“You realise, worst comes to worst, that means killing him,” Castiel said.

Crowley shrugged. “I’m not sentimental.”

Castiel finished dressing, pulling his familiar trench coat onto his shoulders. It was a comforting weight, although wearing any clothing at all felt strange after he had been naked for so long. He smoothed his shirt down, absently missing his tie. He stepped forward and around Crowley, who looked over him with an appreciative glance.

“All suited up and ready to go?” Crowley asked.

“I’m still useless without my grace,” Castiel said.

“Well good thing,” Crowley said, reaching into his pocket and bringing out a glowing vial, “that I happen to have it.”

Castiel stared at the vial in his hands. “You found it.”

“It was a team effort,” Crowley said. He held it out. “Now you do understand the plan?”

Castiel nodded.

Crowley handed him the vial.

Castiel twisted the top off, letting out a breath as he brought it to his face. “I suggest you shield yourself.”

Crowley took several long steps back from him as Castiel breathed in the grace. He closed his eyes, feeling the power seep into him. There was a bright flash and an eruption of energy radiating out from him. The bed was thrown backward and crashed against the wall, barely missing where Crowley now stood. Castiel straightened, spreading out his broken wings with some relief. They hurt but it felt good to have them back.

“Impressive,” Crowley commented. “A wee bit dramatic for my taste though.”

Castiel felt something shift and snapped his eyes open. He touched the bond he had with Dean and felt his rage reach a crescendo, a mixture of fear laced with it. He could sense Dean moving toward him and knew that he had escaped his confines.

“Dean is coming,” Castiel said.

“Handy thing that bond,” Crowley said. “Although I don’t know how he managed to escape. That was one of my strongest cells.”

“Dean is powerful,” Castiel commented.

“But are you more powerful?” Crowley asked, stepping toward him. “Because if you’re not we’re both dead.”

“I will be powerful enough,” Castiel said. “I am a seraph.”

“With broken bloody wings by the looks of it,” Crowley said. “How much else of you is broken?”

“My grace will be sufficient,” Castiel assured him as he walked over to the door. “Don’t worry.”

“Oh sure, don’t worry,” Crowley said with a scowl. “Because there’s only an enraged Knight of Hell coming this way.”

“The plan will work,” Castiel said as he stepped behind the door.

He waited, watching as Crowley began to pace in the centre of the room. Castiel completely shut down his bond with Dean to prevent him from sensing him. He could feel Dean hammering at it, trying to get a read on him. He remained silent and willed Crowley not to make a mess of things. He did have faith in the King. They had made a deal and Crowley never went back on his deals.

He sensed Dean before he saw him. A wave of fierce anger washed over him just before Dean swept into the room, the First Blade tight in his grip. Dean stopped as he entered the room and looked around, and Castiel had to wonder if his eyes were as black as his soul was.

“Where is he?” Dean demanded, stalking across the room.

“Where is who?” Crowley asked innocently.

“Cas,” Dean spat. “What have you done with Cas?”

“I didn’t do a thing,” Crowley said, watching as he came. “You were the one who injured him.”

“Where is he?” Dean repeated.

Castiel slid out from his hiding place, quietly walking up behind Dean. Dean’s entire attention was on the King of Hell so he didn’t sense or see Castiel as he approached. Castiel came to stand directly behind Dean and reached forward.

“Closer than you think,” Crowley answered.

Castiel grabbed Dean from behind, wrapping him with his arms. Dean instantly fought back as his arms were pinned to his sides. Castiel summoned his grace and cloaked Dean in it, pushing down the demon. He could feel the Mark burning on Dean’s arm, Dean roaring as he struggled to fight Castiel off.

“Calm down,” Crowley said as he walked closer, plucking the First Blade from Dean’s hands. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

Crowley stepped around them, meeting Castiel’s eye. Castiel gave a nod as he completely wrapped himself around Dean and held him steady. Reaching up Crowley grabbed hold of them and teleported.

\-----O-----

Sam was pacing the bunker as he waited to hear back from Crowley. Hannah had called to let Sam know that the grace had been found and that Crowley had it. Sam wondered if Crowley had followed through with his promise to return the grace to Castiel. He swallowed. He hoped so. He also hoped that they would be able to capture Dean.

Sam started as his phone rang, snatching it out of his pocket and bring it to his ear. “Hello?”

“Open the door,” Crowley commanded.

Sam turned and sprinted for the front door, taking the steps two at a time. Reaching the top he threw open the door and found Crowley standing outside. Sam’s eyes widened as he spotted Castiel standing directly behind him, but it was the demon struggling in Castiel’s arms that caught all of Sam’s attention.

Dean’s eyes were pitch black. Sam could feel the rage rolling off him as he fought against Castiel’s hold. Castiel’s eyes were glowing with grace as he held Dean close, his arms pinned down to his sides. Sam swallowed, stepping back and allowing them to enter. Castiel was practically dragging Dean forward and into the bunker, hurling him down the stairs.

Sam led the way through the bunker to the dungeon. They moved in silence aside from the grunts and growls of Dean struggling to break free. When they reached the dungeon Crowley stopped at the doorway, Castiel hurling Dean across the space and over to the chair in the middle of the room. He forced Dean down, Sam quickly strapping him into the seat.

“That’s my part done,” Crowley said. “I’ll leave you to it.”

He turned and walked away, leaving Castiel and Sam alone with an enraged Dean.

“I’m going to get free,” Dean growled. “And then I’m going to kill both of you.”

“No,” Sam said flatly. “We’re going to cure you.”

“Are you prepared?” Castiel asked Sam.

Sam nodded, walking over to the table near the edge of the room. “I went out and got some blood after Crowley called. I even got Dean’s blood type.”

“Oh come on, Sammy,” Dean growled. “You know that’s not going to work on me. I have more than just demon juice running through these veins.”

“Mark of Cain,” Sam said. “Got it.”

Dean eyed them both. “Has it ever occurred to you both that I don’t want to be fixed?”

Sam picked up the syringe and filled it with blood, walking over to Dean. “Buckle up.”

“Sammy,” Dean purred looking up at him. “You know I hate shots.”

Sam scoffed. “Yeah, well I hate demons.”

Castiel picked up a flask of holy water off the table as Sam approached Dean. Dean snarled as Sam got near him, Castiel splashing the holy water onto him. Dean flinched back and gave Sam the perfect opportunity to stab the syringe into his arm. Sam quickly injected the blood into Dean and stepped back, waiting to see if anything happened.

“We’ve got a whole bunch more of these to go,” Sam said as he backed away. “You can make it a whole lot easier on yourself.”

Dean glared up at him for a moment before he flinched, pulling at his bonds. He groaned, grimacing in pain. Castiel stayed ready with the holy water in case he tried anything but instead Dean seemed to be fighting with something inside himself.

“His demon is radiating,” Castiel commented.

“Does that mean it’s working?” Sam asked.

“Hard to tell,” Castiel said. He tilted his head as Dean howled. “He is in pain.”

“We’ll keep at it as long as it takes,” Sam said. He sighed. “It’s going to be a long few hours.”

“If you require sleep I can watch over him,” Castiel said.

“There’s no way I’m going to get to sleep,” Sam said as Dean quietened down.

Dean snarled again, raising his head to look toward them. He eyed Sam. “Love the beard, Sammy. Looking very mountain man.”

Sam frowned.

“I wasn’t going to comment on it,” Castiel added. “But you do look exhausted. I insist that you try and sleep.”

“No,” Sam said. “I’m going to stay right here until Dean is cured.”

“I’ve already told you I don’t want to be cured,” Dean said. “I’m happy the way I am. Never been better.”

Sam ignored him, frowning as his nostrils flared. He eyed Dean. “Did you stop taking your suppressants?”

“Don’t need them in Hell,” Dean said. “Killed a ton of alphas too. Wiling to add you to my list.”

“I don’t believe any alphas that approached him survived,” Castiel said.

Sam looked at him. “Cas, are you okay? You were gone a long time.”

“I’m fine, Sam,” Castiel said. “I have my grace back now.”

“Surprised Crowley gave it to you,” Dean said. “I thought he was going to use it for himself.”

“He wanted you gone,” Castiel told him. “You’d become an inconvenience to him.”

“After everything I did for him,” Dean growled. “Back stabbing bitch that he is.”

“You are impossible to live with when you’re human,” Sam commented. “I’d hate to imagine what you’re like as a demon.”

“Could always find out,” Dean purred. “Just let me go, Sammy. I’ll leave you alone. Let me get on with my life.”

“That’s not going to happen, Dean,” Sam said. “We’re going to cure you, whether you want it or not.”

“Which I don’t,” Dean said. “You know what the power is like, Sammy. You’ve had demon juice in you. It makes you a god.”

“Being a god is not what it’s cut out to be,” Castiel commented.

“And you would know, wouldn’t you,” Dean said, glaring at him. “You took all those souls and proclaimed yourself God. Bit you in the ass, didn’t it.”

“We cleaned up the mess the Leviathans left,” Castiel said. “That’s what matters.”

“Bobby died because of you,” Dean sneered. “His blood is on your hands.”

“Don’t listen to him, Cas,” Sam said. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Yes it was, Sam,” Castiel said. “There is truth in what he’s saying.”

“I think Cas here has the highest body count out of all of us,” Dean said. “And exactly how are you going to repent for that. The angels should want you dead.”

“They should,” Castiel said. “But they do not. I atone for my sins every day. Today I atone by curing you.”

“I’m flattered, I am,” Dean said. “But you’re not going to cure me. You’re just wasting your time.”

“Well see,” Sam said. “We’re only one injection down. There are seven more to go.”

“And the clock is ticking,” Castiel said. He looked at Sam. “You really are exhausted, Sam. I will administer the next few injections. Get some rest. Eat. I will stay here.”

Sam looked at him and suddenly felt heavy. He could feel his body weighing him down as he moved sluggishly. He nodded as his stomach growled. He reached out, clapping Castiel on the shoulder and heading out of the room. He sealed the door behind him just to be safe, locking Castiel and Dean in the room together.


	22. Chapter 22

Dean never relented with his mocking. Castiel remained silent, standing silently by the table as he leaned back against the wall and stared at Dean. They had made their way through four more injections and Castiel couldn’t yet see any real sign of change in Dean. He could feel Dean’s pain after each injection through their bond, but when he couldn’t Dean had closed off his mind.

Interestingly Dean had begun to doze after the last injection. He had passed out from the pain after Castiel had thrown holy water at him. Castiel watched him for any sign of deception but couldn’t see any. He set his jaw, running his gaze over Dean and feeling a pang of protectiveness. It was altogether possible that this ritual could have the effect of killing Dean. Castiel was ready to take that chance if it meant Dean would be human again.

Abruptly Dean moved, pulling at his bonds. Castiel pushed himself off the wall as he saw them coming free. Quickly he crossed the room and grabbed them, Dean snapping at him. Castiel reached into his grace and grabbed Dean to hold him down. The last thing he needed was Dean loose in the bunker. He would probably kill Sam if given the chance.

“Let me go,” Dean hissed as Castiel held him.

“It’s over, Dean,” Castiel said, fastening him back into place with tighter knots than had been used before. “Just give up.”

Dean snarled, eyes black as he stared Castiel down. Castiel checked the bonds again to make sure they weren’t going to give. He was glad he had decided to stay in the room with Dean now. He hated to think what a free roaming Dean would have done. He would no doubt want revenge for what was happening to him.

Castiel moved back to the wall, checking the time. It was still twenty minutes until Dean’s next injection. He hoped that Sam had managed to get some sleep. The younger Winchester had been exhausted to the point of collapse. With his grace now powering him up Castiel didn’t need to rest anymore so he used it to his advantage.

“I can see your wings,” Dean purred. “Not looking too good there, Cas.”

“They will heal,” Castiel said.

“I bet they hurt,” Dean said. “Maybe more than you’re hurting me.”

“My wings are not your concern,” Castiel said.

“You know I felt it when you got your grace back,” Dean said. “This surge of power over our bond. It gave me the strength to bust my door down.”

So that explained that. Castiel had been wondering how Dean had managed to escape what Crowley claimed to be one of the most secure rooms in Hell. He should have expected that Dean would feel some of the power over their connection. He absently wondered if Dean was still trying to use it to escape.

“I looked after you,” Dean said. “I kept you safe from demons and angels, and this is how you repay me?”

“You raped me. Repeatedly,” Castiel said.

“It was just a little fun,” Dean said. “You know if you’d just gone with it I wouldn’t have had to force you.”

“I refuse to fornicate with a demon,” Castiel said.

“Yeah? Didn’t seem to have a problem with it when you were in your rut,” Dean reminded him.

“We have been over this,” Castiel said. “You turned me into an animal. I was not myself.”

“But it was fun,” Dean said. “You kept pinning me to the bed and fucked me over and over. Your knot barely ever went down. It’d go down and boom, ten minutes later you were climbing right back on.”

“I have no memory of this,” Castiel said.

“I bet if you really thought about it you’d remember,” Dean said. “Maybe I can even send you the memories over our bond.”

“I have no interest in them,” Castiel said.

“You sure? Because they’re hot,” Dean said. “You were hot.”

“I still do not see why you wished to be mated,” Castiel said. “It serves you no purpose.”

“Saved my ass from the angels, didn’t it?” Dean said. “Those were some pretty smooth moves you sent my way. You really know how to fight.”

“I am a warrior,” Castiel reminded him.

“Told me the real potential our bond has,” Dean said. “We could be amazing if we worked together. We could be Gods.”

“I have no interest in becoming a god,” Castiel said.

“Why? You’ve done it before.”

“Which is exactly why I would never do it again,” Castiel said. “No one should have such power.”

“We could clean up Heaven and Hell,” Dean said. “Find a way of opening the gates of Heaven again so all the angels can go home. Slam shut the gates of Hell and keep all the demons under wraps. We could be amazing.”

“Your promises are empty,” Castiel said.

“How do you know?” Dean said with a smile. “Would I lie to you?”

“Yes,” Castiel said flatly.

Dean looked pained. “You wound me, Cas.”

“You have no interest in taking over Hell,” Castiel said. “If you did you would have killed Crowley long ago.”

“He was useful,” Dean said. “He’s not anymore.”

“You’re just mad you became his servant,” Castiel said. “You were his little bitch.”

Dean snarled, eyes flicking to black as he threw himself against his bonds. Castiel smirked as he realised he had found one of Dean’s triggers. The bonds held, however, Castiel resting back against the wall as Dean continued to fight.

“You’ll hurt yourself,” Castiel warned him.

Dean didn’t reply as he continued to growl.

The door to the cell opened, Castiel glancing up and seeing Sam stepping into the room. Castiel noticed that Sam had shaved and looked a lot more alert than he had before. Clearly he had managed to get some sleep while he was away. He was also wearing a fresh outfit, and his hair was still slightly damp from a shower.

“Feeling better?” Castiel asked.

“Much,” Sam said. He eyed Dean. “Any problems?”

“He tried to escape,” Castiel said.

“Good thing you were here then,” Sam said. “If he’d gotten loose…”

Castiel nodded, knowing what Sam meant. Even in his compromised state Dean was still a threat.

“How long until the next injection?” Sam asked.

“About 10 minutes,” Castiel said.

Sam nodded. “I’ll do the next one. He still fighting them?”

“I am right here you know,” Dean said out loud.

Castiel ignored him “He is. They are still causing him pain.”

“Good,” Sam said, eyeing Dean. “We’re over half way now. Only three left.”

Castiel nodded. “Then we will know if it works.”

\-----O-----

Sam stayed in the room for the next two injections. He paced, Castiel staying where he was leaning against the wall. Dean had tried to escape again, and had been spending more and more time fading in and out of consciousness. When he was awake he spent his time taunting them, eyes black as he mocked them and reminded them that he didn’t want to be cured.

As the clock counted down toward the last injection Sam sighed. “Are we doing the right thing, Cas? He keeps saying he doesn’t want to be cured. That he doesn’t want to be human.”

“Well, I see his point,” Castiel said after a moment. “Only humans can feel any real joy, but also such profound pain. This is easier.”

Sam picked up the syringe and walked over the Dean, injecting him with the last dose of blood. Dean was still unconscious which meant that he didn’t fight Sam. Sam pulled away, studying him. While unconscious it was easy to forget that Dean was a demon. He looked so human while he was asleep. He looked just like the brother that had been with him before he had died.

Sam chased the memories of Dean’s body lying in state in his room from his mind. He didn’t need to think about that now. He got what Castiel was saying about being in pain. There was no pain stronger than that that Sam had felt when he had thought he’d lost his brother forever. When he had carried his lifeless body back to the bunker and into his room. He could get why Dean wouldn’t want to experience that.

All Sam wanted was his brother back. He glanced up at Castiel and saw him watching Dean sadly. Sam wondered just what Dean had done to Castiel while they had been away. Castiel had shown no signs of any trauma, but Sam knew that was just Castiel. He was fully angel again, his poker face firmly in place. But deep down Sam knew that Castiel was hoping as much as he was that Dean would make a recovery.

They both looked up as Dean moved, slowly waking up. Sam grabbed the holy water flask from the table, unscrewing the lid. Beside him Castiel drew his angel blade at the ready. Dean had tried to escape on them at least two more times in the last few hours, and each time they had increased his bonds. The escapes usually happened right after he awoke so they were ready.

Dean looked up, his eyes black as night. Then he blinked, the black slowly fading away to familiar green. Sam frowned. This was different. There was also something different about the way Dean was moving; the expression on his face. It was more familiar. It was more like Dean.

Dean looked back and forth between them, his face soft. “You look worried, fellas.”

Sam couldn’t be sure that this wasn’t some sort of trick. He glanced at Castiel and saw the equal look of confusion on his face. Stepping forward Sam splashed holy water over Dean. He waited for some sort of reaction but none came. Castiel and Sam exchanged another look as the water dripped off a slightly annoyed Dean’s face.

Sam could barely keep the smile from his face as he looked down at his brother. “Welcome back, Dean.”

Dean stared at him a moment before glancing at Castiel, then looking around the room. There were a myriad of emotions washing over his face. Sam couldn’t help but wonder if he was remembering everything that he had done as a demon, and coming to terms with the fact that he was human again.

Sam stepped forward and began to undo the bonds on Dean’s arms and legs. Once he was done he held out a hand. Dean took it and allowed Sam to pull him up into a tight hug. Sam squeezed his eyes closed as he breathed in Dean’s familiar scent. He could still smell the omega in his brother that was usually deeply suppressed, but Sam had always been able to slightly smell that scent. It was part of knowing what Dean was.

Dean returned the hug, pressing his face into Sam’s shoulder. “I’m okay, Sammy,” he said softly.

He stepped back, Sam frowning as he saw tears shimmering in Dean’s eyes as he looked over at Castiel.

“Cas,” Dean said softly. “I’m so sorry.”

“Dean,” Castiel said, his eyes soft.

Abruptly Dean stiffened, a hand going to his abdomen. He gave a grunt of pain, then a louder cry as he doubled over. Sam’s eyes widened as he grabbed him, Dean slowly sinking to the floor as he whined.

“What’s going on,” Sam said as he panicked. “Dean! What’s wrong?”

“I believe he is miscarrying,” Castiel said softly.

Sam’s eyes flew up toward Castiel as the words sunk in. “Dean’s what!?”

“It would be best if we get him to a hospital,” Castiel said as he sank to one knee beside Dean, a hand on his back.

“Okay,” Sam said, his mind trying to catch up with what was happening. “The car is in the garage. We need to get him there fast.”


	23. Chapter 23

The trip in the car had been filled with Dean’s grunts and groans of pain, Sam driving as fast as they could to the nearest hospital. Castiel had sat in the back with Dean, gently cradling him again him and trying to alleviate some of the pain using his grace. The pain seemed to be coming in waves, Dean groaning long as he held his abdomen.

Sam tried to register what was going on. If Dean was miscarrying then that meant that he was pregnant. His omega brother was pregnant. Sam knew that Dean would never have allowed himself to be in such a position and couldn’t help but wonder if Dean even knew who the father was. Sam worried his lip as he got them to the hospital.

Together they had helped Dean inside, practically carrying him between them. Once they had explained what was going on Dean had been whisked away leaving Sam and Castiel on their own. They found some chairs in a small waiting area, settling into them.

“How can Dean be pregnant?” Sam asked. “Did you know?”

“I knew,” Castiel said softly.

“Does he know who the father is?”

“He does,” Castiel said.

Sam set his jaw. “Was it Crowley?”

“No,” Castiel assured him. “It wasn’t some random alpha, Sam.”

Sam stared at him for a long time, Castiel’s words sinking in. He felt a wave of anger wash over him. “Was it you?’

Castiel didn’t answer, staring across the space at a spot on the wall. He nodded once.

“What the fuck, Cas,” Sam said. He felt rage burning inside him. “How could you let this happen?”

“It was unintentional,” Castiel said.

“You really need to learn to have sex with protection,” Sam accused. “What the hell were you doing with Dean when he was a demon anyway?”

Castiel didn’t look at him. “It was not consensual, Sam.”

Sam paused at that. He instantly thought that Castiel was saying that he had taken advantage of Dean but he paused. He realised that Castiel hadn’t had the strength to overpower Dean, which therefore implied that Dean had overpowered Castiel. Sam swallowed as his anger died, a small wave of nausea replacing it.

“Cas,” Sam said softly. “Did Dean rape you?”

Castiel nodded again.

“Oh my God,” Sam said. He shook his head as he tried to put the pieces together. “Why?”

“Because we are truemates,” Castiel said softly. “Dean was intent on mating.”

Sam raised his eyebrows at the term ‘truemates’. Those were rare. He stared at Castiel for a moment longer, his eyes drifting down to his neck. “Did you?”

Castiel reached up, pulling at his collar and revealing the mating mark. “Again, not consensual.”

“How then?” Sam asked.

“Dean used a potion to induce my rut,” Castiel explained. “And one in turn that brought on his heat. He turned me into an animal.”

“I bet Crowley had something to do with that,” Sam said. He shook his head. “But why would Dean want to mate? You’d be a liability.”

“He’s never answered that,” Castiel said. “I begged him to kill me. He refused.”

Sam couldn’t even imagine what Castiel must have gone through. He knew from the cage what Hell could be like. Hearing about what Dean had done to Castiel made him feel sick. He reached out and placed a hand gently on Castiel’s arm and squeezed. He wanted Castiel to know that he wasn’t mad at him.

Something else occurred to Sam. Castiel was an angel. That meant…

“Cas,” Sam said. “Was Dean carrying the Nephilim?”

Castiel nodded. “He was, yes.”

“So this is a good thing,” Sam said. “Dean losing it.”

“Yes it is,” Castiel said.

“The angels told me about the Nephilim,” Sam said. “They also told me that the human and angel involved must die.”

“That is the punishment, yes,” Castiel said. He looked up at Sam. “That is why the angels must never know about Dean.”

“I understand,” Sam said. “I won’t say a word to anyone.”

“Thank you,” Castiel said softly.

“Did Crowley know?”

“He did,” Castiel said. “I believe he had hoped this would be the outcome.”

“That and the fact he didn’t want Dean as a demon anymore,” Sam said. “What happened, anyway? What changed?”

“The Mark began to control Dean,” Castiel explained. “His demon was becoming stronger. He was losing control of himself as the Mark took over.”

“And if he lost control of himself then so did Crowley,” Sam guessed.

“Dean almost killed me,” Castiel said. “That was when we knew time was running out.”

“That explains Crowley’s message,” Sam said. “Was he the one who freed you?”

“He came to me with a plan,” Castiel said. “That once I had my grace he would lure Dean to me so that I could trap him. It went exactly as he planned.”

“What if the angels hadn’t been able to break Metatron?” Sam asked. “What then?”

“Then I would still be chained up in Hell,” Castiel said. “And Dean would still be trying to escape his room.”

“Crowley had him locked up?”

Castiel nodded. “He trapped Dean to prevent him from killing anymore.”

“So Dean was completely out of control,” Sam guessed.

“He would have massacred thousands,” Castiel said. “The Mark wanted him to kill. He had begun to kill indiscriminately although his main target appeared to be alphas.”

“Alphas can be a bigger threat,” Sam admitted.

“Crowley’s guard was mostly made up of alphas,” Castiel confirmed.

They looked up as the door opened, a doctor stepping into the waiting area. He looked down at them and frowned. “Is one of you Mr Winchester’s alpha?”

“I am,” Castiel said.

“I’m Dean’s brother,” Sam said.

The doctor nodded. “I’m sorry to say that there was nothing we could do for the child. It’s as if his body had suddenly rejected it and was forcing it out. It was lost.”

“And Dean?” Sam asked.

“He’ll be fine,” the doctor said. “We want to keep him overnight just to be sure. He sustained a bit of blood loss.”

“Can we see him?”

“He’s being taken up to a room now,” the doctor said. “I’ll let you know where he ends up. Then you can see him.”

“Thank you,” Castiel said.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” the doctor said.

\-----O-----

Sam and Castiel made their way into the room and closed the door behind them. Dean looked to be asleep, exhaustion etched deeply into his face. As they made their way closer his green eyes blinked open, taking them in.

“Hey guys,” he said softly.

“Hey yourself,” Sam said. He reached out, taking hold of one of Dean’s hands and giving it a squeeze. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a train,” he admitted. “Remind me never to go through this again.”

“That can be arranged,” Castiel said softly.

“Cas…” Dean squeezed his eyes closed again. “I’m so sorry.”

“It was for the best, Dean,” Castiel said. “Having the child would have killed you.”

Sam looked up. “Crowley mentioned something like that.”

“The Nephilim destroys the host at birth,” Castiel confirmed. “It would have been a death sentence for Dean.”

“I don’t know why I was so keen on having it,” Dean admitted. “You kept telling me it was a bad idea. I wouldn’t listen.”

“You were not yourself,” Castiel told him.

“No, Cas,” Dean said, shaking his head. “I was aware of everything I was doing.”

“You were a demon,” Sam said. “That’s not you.”

“It’s this god damned Mark,” Dean said, scratching his arm. “It made me do things.”

“We’ll find some way of getting rid of it,” Sam said. “I promise.”

“No deals,” Dean said. “Promise me that.”

Sam nodded. “No deals.”

Dean looked over at Castiel. “Cas?”

“I promise,” Castiel said.

“Good.” Dean slumped back into the bed and sighed. “So how you been, Sammy? How’d you hold up?”

“I’m exhausted,” Sam admitted. “I’ve spent the whole time looking for you at first, and then trying to locate Castiel’s grace.”

“I’m guessing the angels broke Metatron,” Dean said.

Castiel and Sam nodded.

“I told them it would work,” Dean said. “They just had to do it right.”

“The angels are fairly competent at torture,” Castiel said. “They simply needed extra guidance.”

“Yeah.” Dean closed his eyes again, shaking his head. “The things I did…”

“It wasn’t you,” Sam repeated.

Dean opened his eyes, looking up at Castiel. “So you back to full power?”

“More or less,” Castiel said. “My wings are broken and Heaven is weakened so I am not as strong as I once was.”

“You were strong enough to take me down,” Dean commented. “Good thing.”

“So you’re glad you’re cured?” Sam asked.

Dean nodded. “It was like… all the worst parts of me were on steroids. All I felt was anger and… blood lust. I just wanted to murder everything.”

“What about the Nephilim?” Sam asked. “Did it change anything?”

Dean shook his head. “If anything it made it worse. I wanted to kill every threat to it. All the demons, the angels… everyone.”

“Maternal instincts,” Castiel commented. “You wanted to protect it.”

Dean looked up at him. “You’re certain it would have killed me.”

Castiel nodded. “No matter what happened, Dean, it would have destroyed you.”

“And then Crowley would have killed you,” Dean said. “And then Crowley would have raised it.”

“Wow. That’s a massively dodged bullet,” Sam commented. “A being that powerful being raised by Crowley?”

“It would have destroyed everything,” Castiel said. “That is why Nephilim are forbidden.”

“Yeah. I get that now.” Dean looked at Castiel. “You know I never intended it, right?”

“I am aware,” Castiel said.

Dean glanced at Sam. “Sam, can I talk with Cas for a moment?”

“Sure.” Sam said. He squeezed Dean’s hand before letting it go and walking to the door. “I’ll be just outside if you need me.”

“Thanks Sam.”

They waited until Sam had left the room and closed the door behind him. Dean averted his eyes, trying to work out what to say. Castiel inched closer to the head of the bed.

“What is it, Dean?” Castiel asked.

“I’m sorry about everything,” Dean said. “The things I did to you…”

“You are forgiven,” Castiel said.

“Don’t do that, Cas,” Dean said, shaking his head. “Don’t just forgive me like that.”

“Why?” Castiel answered. “I never blamed you.”

“Cas, you were begging me to kill you,” Dean said. “Don’t pretend this didn’t affect you.”

“You’re right, it did affect me,” Castiel said. “But I blame the Mark, not you.”

“This fucking thing.” Dean rubbed his arm again. “I’m sorry I drugged you. I know you didn’t want to mate with me and I forced the issue.”

“I didn’t wish to mate with a demon,” Castiel clarified.

“If you want to find some way of reversing it…”

“Why would I do that?” Castiel asked. He sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at Dean with soft eyes.

“Because you don’t want this,” Dean said.

“Dean…” Castiel said softly. “Do you wish to undo it?”

“I…” Dean frowned, trying to find the words to describe it. “I don’t want to force you into anything you don’t want.”

“You said it yourself, Dean. We’re truemates,” Castiel said.

“Yeah, I know,” Dean said. “But angels…”

“Can’t feel love?” Castiel finished.

Dean nodded.

Castiel pursed his lips, eyes narrowing as his head tilted. “Dean, open your bond to me.”

Dean blinked. “What?”

“Open your mind,” Castiel repeated. “Let me in.”

Dean closed his eyes, focussing on their bond. He pulled down the walls he had put up between them. There was a moment’s pause before he felt Castiel drop his own walls. Then it hit him like a tsunami, as outpouring of love washing over him. Dean gasped as he was overwhelmed by it. Tears sprang to his eyes as he realised this was how Castiel felt about him.

“Cas…” he said softly.

“Yes I am an angel,” Castiel said. “And yes angels cannot feel love. But I am not an ordinary angel. As you said – I am broken. I feel.”

Dean opened his eyes, tears staining his cheeks as he looked up at Castiel with awe. “How long?”

“A while,” Castiel admitted. “I thought it was unrequited.”

“No,” Dean said, pushing his own love for Castiel back through the bond. “It’s requited. I just didn’t think you could so I never…”

“I guess that makes us both fools,” Castiel said.

“Yeah.”

“So perhaps something good has come out of this after all,” Castiel said.

“I guess so,” Dean said. He reached out, taking Castiel’s closest hand. “Cas, can you do something for me?”

“Anything,” Castiel said.

“Kiss me.”

Castiel smiled, shifting slightly up the bed before leaning down. Dean turned his head so that they could press their lips perfectly together. It was a soft kiss, Dean expecting Castiel to pull away but instead he leaned back in for another. Dean parted his lips in invitation, one that Castiel took. They kissed passionately for a moment, losing themselves in each other.

The sound of a clearing throat broke them apart, and looking up they spotted Sam leaning in the door. He could barely contain his smile as he looked at them.

“The doctor just swung by,” Sam said. “He says you should be right to go home in the morning. He also said something about you wanting to go back on suppressants?”

“Yeah,” Dean said. “I asked him that earlier.” He looked up at Castiel. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“It is your decision,” Castiel said. “It will also reduce the odds of another ‘accident’.”

“What I figure,” Dean said.

“Anyway, the doctor said it’s fine,” Sam said. “Although he recommends waiting a couple of days.”

“Good,” Dean said. “Being an omega around alphas sucks. It would make hunting harder.”

“Anyway, he said he’ll be back in a while for you to finalise the paperwork,” Sam said. “I kind of told him you were busy at the moment.”

“Thanks Sam,” Dean said.

“Anyway I’ll leave you too it,” Sam said, ducking back out the door. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”

“We’re in a hospital,” Dean reminded him.

“And you have a doctor fetish,” Sam called back.

Dean snapped his mouth shut at that.


	24. Chapter 24

Castiel pulled the car into the carpark, turning off the engine and gazing around. There was no one in sight much to his relief. He climbed out of the car and walked across the empty playground toward the sandpit. He stopped beside it, gazing down at the runes and clearing his throat. He closed his eyes and began to pray.

“Hannah,” he said out loud. “I wish to speak with you.”

There was no reply. Castiel hadn’t expected there to be one straight away so he stood where he was, waiting for the gate to Heaven to open. He knew that he could always enter Heaven himself but decided against it. He still was not the most welcome angel in Heaven with a great many of his brethren blaming him for the fall. Hannah was a rare exception.

He looked up as the runes began to glow, a bright light filling the space. He squinted at the light as a figure appeared, Hannah stepping out of the sandpit and making her way toward him. She smiled brightly at him. He could see the relief on her face.

“Castiel,” she said as she stopped before him. “You have your grace.”

“I do,” he said. “Crowley returned it to me.”

“We were unsure of his intentions,” Hannah admitted. “We were reluctant to allow him to have it.”

“I understand your hesitancy,” Castiel said. “Crowley is not the most trustworthy of demons. He does, however, keep a deal once it is made.”

“You made a deal with him?” Hannah asked with a frown.

Castiel nodded. “My grace in exchange for ridding Hell of Dean.”

“What of Dean Winchester?” Hannah asked. “He is the one who captured you is he not?”

“He is,” Castiel confirmed. “He has been cured. He is human again.”

“We are pleased to hear it,” Hannah said. “Does he still have the Mark of Cain?”

“He does,” Castiel said. “We are researching ways to remove it.”

“He is still a threat while he wears it,” Hannah said. “He is unstable.”

“We will do everything in our power to help him control it,” Castiel said.

“And if he becomes a demon again?”

“We will not allow him to die in order for that to happen,” Castiel said. “Metatron was to blame for killing him.”

“Yes, Metatron,” Hannah said. She glanced upward. “We have returned his grace to him.”

“Pity,” Castiel said. “He should be made to live like a human. Perhaps he could find a wife. Make babies.”

Hannah gave him a strange look.

“It is what he told me when he took my grace,” Castiel explained.

“I see,” she said. “He is still captive in Heaven. There are strict orders for him not to be removed from his cell.”

“Understandable,” Castiel said. “You did well getting the information from him.”

“Naomi did most of the work,” Hannah said. “We’re sorry you could not have helped.”

“I do not enjoy torture,” Castiel said.

“I don’t think anyone does,” Hannah said.

“There are those that do.”

Hannah studied him. “Is Dean Winchester one of them?”

“No,” Castiel said shortly. “He only tortures when necessary and does not enjoy it.”

“But he is skilled at it,” Hannah said. “It was his suggestion that allowed us to retrieve the information from Metatron.”

“So I understand,” Castiel said. “Dean is resting now. It will take him some time to recover. What he has done weighs heavily upon him.”

“He killed our brethren,” Hannah reminded him.

“I know,” Castiel said.

“Yet you still protect him,” Hannah observed.

“I will always protect Dean Winchester,” Castiel said. “And by extension his brother.”

“Because of your orders?”

“Because I will it,” Castiel said. “It may have been orders once, but now I do it of my own free will.”

“Free will,” she said softly. “What is that like?”

“Daunting,” Castiel said. “It is like you are forever facing the unknown. You must make your own decisions and live with the consequences of them.”

“And do you face the consequences?” she asked.

“I do,” Castiel said. He looked up toward the sky. “I know I can never return to Heaven. I am no longer welcome.”

“That can change,” Hannah said. “I have been making your case.”

“I thank you for that,” Castiel said. “I also know that I will never fly again. My wings are broken beyond repair.”

“We have all lost our wings,” she reminded him.

“And for that I am sorry,” he said. “Another reason why I can never return.”

“You were doing what you thought was best,” Hannah said.

“And I was wrong,” Castiel said. “As I often am.”

Hannah nodded, casting her gaze around the empty playground. “Perhaps you can still help us.”

Castiel raised his head. “What is it you need?”

“We seek the Nephilim,” Hannah said. “Surely you sensed its creation.”

“I did,” Castiel said. “The Nephilim is no longer a threat.”

She looked at him sharply. “You know who carried it.”

“I did,” Castiel said. “The Nephilim no longer exists.”

“So you’ve already helped us,” Hannah said. “I trust you killed the host.”

“The host is not a threat,” Castiel said.

She frowned. “But-“

“Leave it be, Hannah,” Castiel said. “There will not be a second Nephilim. Not from the host and angel in question.”

“What are you saying?” Hannah said.

“I’m saying it has been taken care of,” Castiel said. “That nothing more needs to be done.”

Hannah narrowed her eyes as she gazed at him. Castiel did his best not to shift under her scrutiny. It was as if she was trying to look deep into his grace to search for answers. After a while her face softened, a look of determination on her face.

“I trust you, Castiel,” she said. “If you say it’s taken care of then I believe you.”

“Thank you,” he said, letting out the breath that he had been holding.

“What are you planning to do now?” Hannah asked. “Will you return to the Winchesters?”

He nodded. “They need me right now. We need to find a way to remove the Mark of Cain.”

“We will help,” Hannah said. “As you have helped us.”

“We will appreciate it,” Castiel said. “Crowley has already pledged his assistance. He does not wish for Dean to become a demon again.”

“He was a great threat to all,” Hannah said. She reached out, taking his hand and squeezing it. “I am glad to have you back, Castiel.”

“I am glad to be back,” Castiel said with a smile. “Let me know if you ever need my help.”

“We will,” Hannah said. “Please stay safe.”

“I will try.”

She let go of his hand and walked back to the sandpit. She raised her hand to wave to him, a smile on her face as the runes in the sand began to glow. Castiel shielded his eyes as she disappeared and re-entered Heaven. He sighed, turning and making his way back toward his car. It was time to make his way back to the bunker.


	25. Chapter 25

Dean was sitting in the library, a bottle of beer in his hand. He had his eyes closed but he wasn’t sleeping. He had been sleeping a lot lately, so much so that now he was wide awake when he was supposed to be asleep. Sam had gone to bed an hour ago having stayed up with Dean as long as he possibly could. Sam had been nodding off in his seat so Dean had told him to go get some shuteye.

It had been nearly two weeks now since he had been cured. Dean’s body was slowly starting to recover from the whole ordeal. The Mark still itched and cried out for blood but he had been resisting the call. It was easier to do that now he was human.

Sam had fallen into the overprotective brother role easily. He insisted on helping Dean with everything. Dean wanted to cook – no, Sam would do it. Dean needed to get a drink – Sam would get it for him. Dean wanted to go for a drive in Baby – Sam would be the one driving. It had been so bad Dean had called him out on it, Sam defending himself by reminding him what Dean had just been through. Dean had pointed out that he wasn’t made of glass and he was fine so Sam had reluctantly agreed to back off.

They had also had a visit from Crowley two days ago. The King of Hell had invited himself in, just appearing at the door and entering without even announcing himself. They had almost hit the roof when he had spoken up. He seemed happy to find Dean human again, and even more relieved to learn that the Nephilim was no more. He had left Dean a “get well” basket full of fruit and prissy cocktail drinks, bath bombs and a flower shaped loofah. Dean had almost shoved the whole thing up Crowley’s arse.

The bath bombs had turned out to be soothing though. Sam had convinced Dean to give one of them a try, Dean reluctantly relaxing back in the tub. He had almost fallen asleep. It had been years since he had simply taken a bath to relax. His whole body had thanked him for it.

He was back on his suppressants again having been cleared by the doctor to take them. Sam had noticed a change in his scent within a couple of days, saying that Dean once again smelt more like a beta than an omega. Dean was also glad to find that his slick was starting to dry up again. If there was one thing he hated about being an omega it was the mess that his body made.

His whole body had ached for a few days after the miscarriage, going about cleansing his body of all traces of his pregnancy. Sam had given him a hot water bottle and routinely checked to make sure it was still warm while Dean dealt with the cramps. He had kept a bucket in his room for the nausea, Sam even taking care of that. Dean was going to have to thank his brother somehow.

Then there was the whole thing with Castiel. Dean was still wracked with guilt over what had happened between them. He still couldn’t believe that Castiel actually loved him. Dean felt bad for having missed all the cues that were obvious now that he knew. Castiel had assisted Sam in caring for Dean for the first couple of days before he had left, claiming that there were things that he needed to do.

Castiel had kept in contact, and Dean could still sense him over their bond. They kept their minds open to each other now. Dean tried not to pry too much over his, trying to give Castiel his privacy. He knew that Castiel had gone to visit the angels to reassure them that everything was fine. Dean was scared they would realise who were the ones behind the Nephilim and kill Castiel. Castiel had sent him reassuring thoughts and Dean knew that he was still alive.

Dean nursed his beer, opening his eyes and looking around the familiar interior of the bunker. It really was good to be home. He had never felt like he fit in in Hell. He had always been butting heads with Crowley, and there were always eyes on his back at all times. He actually felt peaceful here, able to relax for the first time in months.

He looked up as he heard the bunker door open. He knew Sam was in bed, Dean reflexively reaching under the table for the gun holstered under there. A feeling of reassurance washed over him and caused Dean to smile. Castiel was home.

Sure enough he heard footsteps on the stairs, Castiel making his way down. He stepped through the war room into the library, blue eyes searching out and finding Dean’s. A smile spread over his lips for a moment before concern replaced them.

“Welcome back,” Dean said.

“Thank you,” Castiel said. He tilted his head. “It is very late. Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“Been sleeping too much lately,” Dean admitted. “Now I’m wide awake.”

Castiel blinked. “I could help.”

“You are not voodooing me asleep,” Dean said.

Castiel looked amused. “That was not what I had in mind.”

It was Dean’s turn to frown as he tried to get a read of Castiel. “Wait, are you implying…”

“I hear recreational activities are good for sleep,” Castiel confirmed.

Dean picked up his beer and downed the remains of it before pushing himself to his feet. He swung himself out of his chair and stalked across the room, grabbing Castiel by the hand as he passed him and dragging him out of the room. He could feel Castiel’s amusement over their bond, Castiel dutifully following him through the bunker to Dean’s room. Dean pushed open the door and dragged Castiel inside, then closed the door and slammed Castiel back against it.

“What the hell took you so long,” Dean said as he leaned in, his lips brushing against Castiel’s.

“I had to clean up a few messes,” Castiel answered, letting Dean begin to undress him. “The angels will no longer bother us about the Nephilim.”

“Pleased to hear it,” Dean said, pushing the trench coat onto the floor and working the jacket off after it. “Now get naked.”

“Sam in bed?” Castiel asked as he started to unbutton his shirt.

“Has been for an hour now,” Dean said, pulling his own shirt over his head. “He won’t bother us.”

Dean could still feel Castiel mentally laughing at him and his rush to get undressed.

“Dude, it’s not funny,” Dean said.

“It is somewhat amusing,” Castiel said with a smile, slipping his shirt from his shoulders.

Dean licked his lips as he looked at the newly exposed skin. There was something different about seeing Castiel get naked like this. It was entirely voluntary, and altogether hot. Dean quickly removed his pants, pulling them down with his underwear in one go. He hadn’t been wearing shoes so it made the task to remove them easier. He looked up as Castiel removed his own shoes.

Dean paused as he watched Castiel, a memory flashing through his mind. “You’re okay with this, right?”

“Dean, I wouldn’t have suggested it if I wasn’t,” Castiel said, undoing his belt.

“Just checking,” Dean said. “Cause the last time we did something like this…”

“I’m considering this our first time,” Castiel said. “And it is in a way.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “All parties consent this time.”

“Exactly,” Castiel said, dropping his pants.

Dean watched as Castiel removed the last of his clothing, Dean feeling the heat wash over him as he watched. He licked his lips as Castiel walked over to him. Castiel caught Dean’s face between his hands and leaned down, pressing their lips together. Dean closed his eyes as he let Castiel kiss him. He was still surprised by how good a kisser Castiel actually was. And he was getting better, learning everything that could make Dean moan.

Dean grabbed Castiel by the arms and pulled, dragging him down onto the bed on top of him. They wiggled up the bed until Dean’s head was on the pillows, stealing kisses as they went. Castiel slid between the space Dean made for him with his legs, holding himself up off Dean. Dean desperately needed body contact though and wrapped his arms around Castiel, dragging him down.

They kissed for a long while, hands slipping over naked skin. Dean explored every inch of Castiel, mapping out the new territory of his mate. There was no rush, Castiel slowly grinding his hips against Dean’s and dragging their growing erections together. Dean groaned into his mouth, rolling his hips to increase the friction.

“Wait,” Dean said, reaching for his bedside table and opening the drawer. He pulled out a bottle of lube and a condom. “No slick anymore so we’re going to need this.”

“Yes, I remember reading about this,” Castiel said, taking the bottle.

“Wait, what do you mean ‘read about it,” Dean said, staring up at him. “Cas, have you been researching about having sex?”

Castiel frowned. “Is that wrong?”

“No. No, that’s very right,” Dean said. “And kind of hot.”

“Oh,” Castiel said. “I was concerned for a moment.”

Dean took the lube bottle from him and uncapped it. “Think you can do this?”

“I will try,” Castiel said, taking the bottle back. “Tell me if I do it wrong.”

Castiel slicked up his fingers, reaching down between Dean’s legs to his hole. He gently pushed a finger against it before breaching him. Dean relaxed, breathing deeply as Castiel began to slowly slide the finger in and out of him.

“Add more,” Dean said. “I won’t break.”

Castiel added a second finger, Dean relishing the feeling of it inside him. He rolled his hips slightly in time with the movement of Castiel’s hand. Castiel’s fingers were just missing the spot inside him, Dean feeling a little bit of frustration wash over him.

“Crook your fingers up a bit,” Dean said. “And a little bit to the left.”

Castiel frowned and did as he was told. Dean bit his lip as Castiel got closer to the spot but was still just missing it.

“A bit deeper,” Dean said.

Castiel did as he was instructed and on the next push inward his fingers scored a direct strike on Dean’s centre. Dean gasped, head falling back.

“Right there,” he said, drawing his legs up slightly. “Add another finger and hit that spot again.”

Castiel slipped a third finger into him and targeted the spot again, Dean moaning. He kept rolling his hips, reaching down to wrap his hand around his cock and slowly beginning to stroke it. He closed his eyes as he lost himself into the feeling. He could come just from this, he knew that. He sucked on his lower lip as he grew accustomed to Castiel’s fingers. A droplet of precum trickled out of his cock and over his fingers.

“Stop,” he said, gripping the base of his cock to starve off an orgasm. “Stop.”

Castiel paused, a concerned look on his face. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no,” Dean said, looking at him. “You’re doing it right. Too right. If you don’t stop I’m going to cum before we even get this party started.”

“I see,” Castiel said, sliding his hand free. “I take it this is the part where we have intercourse.”

“Yeap,” Dean said, picking up the condom. “Only this time we’re using protection. No more accidents.”

Dean opened the wrapper, pulling Castiel up slightly. He carefully rolled the condom over Castiel’s own leaking cock and then gave it a couple of strokes for good measure. Castiel groaned, hips stuttering slightly. Dean licked his lips and helped line Castiel up, pulling his legs up to give Castiel better access. And then Castiel slid home.

“Yes,” Dean breathed as he felt Castiel’s cock filling him. “This is definitely better with both people participating.”

“I have to agree,” Castiel said. “It is quite pleasurable.”

“Now,” Dean said, gripping Castiel’s shoulders and kissing him lightly on the lips. “Fuck me. Fuck me like you mean it.”

Castiel didn’t need to be told twice. He started out slow enough that it was driving Dean crazy, but slowly increased his thrusts over time. Dean rolled his hips, angling them with each thrust until Castiel began spearing into his sweet spot. Dean grunted, tilting his head back as Castiel began peppering soft kisses over his neck and jaw.

Dean fisted Castiel’s hair with one hand, pulling him close with the other. He rolled his hips in time with Castiel’s thrusts. He didn’t think this could get much better but then an idea occurred to him. He groaned, opening his eyes to look up at Castiel.

“Open your mind to me,” Dean said. “Open the bond completely.”

Dean did so, opening his mind completely to Castiel and feeling the angel do the same. He gasped as he felt the pure love wash over him. He could feel everything that Castiel could feel, and from the low moan coming from the other he knew that Castiel could feel everything he was felling. The pleasure turned up to eleven, Dean’s mouth falling open as he gasped at the air.

Now that Castiel could sense what Dean wanted he began to do exactly that. His thrusts became a little shorter and harder, angling just right that he hit Dean’s sweet spot with every stroke. Dean tugged at Castiel’s hair, his nails raking down his back as he felt Castiel yearn for it. This was unlike anything Dean had ever felt before. He was in Heaven.

He could feel Castiel’s orgasm approaching and knew his own wasn’t far off. He wrapped his legs around Castiel’s waist which allowed the angel to thrust just a little bit deeper, his knot beginning to catch on Dean’s rim. Dean squeezed his eyes closed and titled his head back and to the side, Castiel’s teeth scraping over the mating mark near where the shoulder met the neck.

Then, without warning, Castiel bit down. Dean cried out, arching off the bed as he came. Castiel thrust a couple more times before slamming in hard, his knot catching inside Dean and locking them together. Pleasure exploded through Dean’s mind as he experienced Castiel’s orgasm in sync with his own. He rode the waves, feeling himself cum untouched between their bodies and up over his own chest.

Dean dragged Castiel forward, sliding his own teeth over Castiel’s mating mark and biting down. Castiel yelped, Dean feeling another burst of pleasure wash over him. Dean could taste the blood on his tongue, feel it trickling down his neck where Castiel was biting him. As he came down from his high he reluctantly released the skin between his teeth and felt Castiel do the same.

“That,” Dean panted, “is definitely the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“Agreed,” Castiel said, his own breathing laboured.

Dean snagged a tissue from the bedside table and cleaned his cum off their chests, tossing the tissue in the direction of the bin. He encouraged Castiel to roll onto his side, Dean hooking a leg over his hip as he felt the knot tying them together pull. Castiel wrapped Dean in his arms, Dean doing likewise as he held Castiel close.

“We’re going to be all right, aren’t we,” Dean said.

“Yes,” Castiel said. “We’re going to be fine.”

**END**


End file.
